


The DJ

by SirenNightshade



Series: Turtles' Doves [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies)
Genre: Continuation, F/M, Fanfiction, Imported, Interspecies, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 208,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17196110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade
Summary: What happens when you mix a needy, hyper-sexual, girl-loving mutant terrapin with a needy, sexually-repressed, music-loving human girl? Heartache -- and sexual tension galore. For Mikey, it was love at first sight; for Lisa, it was terrifying hope as she attempted to learn how to trust again. It's a good thing, then, that these two are head over heels for one another.





	1. Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sister-fic to The Dancer, somewhat of a sequel, originally posted on Tumblr and imported here as a back-up/expansion of my works.

**Rating:** PG (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Honestly, Mikey was surprised but _impressed_. April and Jo had set up a _birthday party_ for them! And Jo had provided _five girls_ as well, girls who’d freaking _danced_ for _them!_ He liked them – all of them – so damn much, it was crazy.

With her stilettos on, Deidre strode around like she was a goddess. Maybe she was; she was gorgeous and had a natural kind of grace and sexiness about her. The only downside, in his professional opinion, was that she had a haughtiness as well. A few moments of conversation told Mikey she was a know-it-all – maybe that was why she kept hanging around Donny, haha.

Rosa was a literal fireball – high-energy, sharp voice, rude demeanor. So far every single comment he’d heard fall from her lips had been sarcastic, some quip or another. And she was young, he’d found; just fifteen. It made him feel like a creep for thinking her curly hair – tighter and smaller than Jo’s own mass – was cute.

Jessica, while freaking _gorgeous_ (like holy _shit_ she was April as a blonde!) kept giving these disdained side-eyes. He got the impression she idolized her boyfriend, whoever he was, and couldn’t help comparing all other guys to him and finding them lacking. So while Mikey thought they could’ve made a nice couple, he respected that she was already in a committed relationship and said nothing about it.

And then there was Cassie, Jo’s best friend and Mikey’s third hardcore crush. He’d seriously believed he had a shot with her, but she just…wasn’t interested. And maybe that was for the best; their mutual beauties aside, they had very little in common. As impressive as ballet was, watching plays bored the hell out of him. That time he’d watched Jocelyn’s play with his bros had been the first time he’d ever _reacted_ to one, and even then it was only because Jo was projecting her emotions so clearly.

He’d just end up disappointing Cassie.

Lisa, though…

_God._

[**Lisa**](https://78.media.tumblr.com/1403b416b892979b7f36ef986886fefa/tumblr_p6qv47KGnW1wtuqpio1_1280.png) was the greatest thing imaginable. With her streaked hair and bright blue eyes (like his! Ah, Cupid strikes again!) and cute dimples and the two adorable moles on her right cheek and – _gah!_ She was a feast for the eyes. And even better? She was _so_ into hip hop, had worn legit Converse high-tops to the party and spun hip hop tunes and she could _breakdance_.

From the moment she got that [**bloody nose**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190455/chapters/40419455) onwards, he’d been stuck to her. He just couldn’t help it; she was so cute and interesting and cute and fun and _so cute_ , did he mention that yet?

Which was why, when she she asked him what “that thing” on his back was, he’d jumped right into showing off.

“Oh, this old thing?” he started, giving a nonchalant shrug as he yanked it free of its magnets. “Just my board.”

Her eyes widened as the wheels popped out and locked into place. “Like, a skateboard?” she checked. When he nodded, she breathed, “Shut up.”

He snickered. Putting the board on the ground, he set a foot on it and gave a little explanation. “Donny designed it for me. The wheels’re all independent. Makes it _real_ stable. And it has a jet on the back,” he said, pointing it out.

“ _What_ ,” she gasped, brushing her hair back and leaning down to take a closer look. “Holy shit, you’re kidding. Your skateboard has a jet!”

Her excitement and fascination gave him butterflies, to be honest. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he’d been vying for her approval – and now that he had it, he was on cloud freaking nine.

“How did–” she started, then shook her head. Meeting his gaze, she demanded, “You said your bro made it? _How?”  
_

Honestly, Mikey had no idea. Shrugging, he answered, “Donny’s a genius. He’s been tinkering and stuff since we were kids. This,” he said, stomping the back end of the board to flip it into his hand, “took him, like…an hour.”

“That’s crazy,” she declared. Then, looking around, she spotted Donatello on the other side of the room and yelled out, “Hey, Donny!” When he paused to look her way, she called, “You’re crazy!”

Instant confusion; his face pinched, baffled.

Chuckling, Mikey waved the board over his head and clarified, “It’s a compliment! She likes the skateboard!”

That got a laugh out of Donny; then, turning to face Lisa from their wide distance, he gave her a little formal bow.

Lisa clapped a hand over her mouth and looked away, clearly embarrassed by that.

Mikey touched her arm, distracting her, and offered the board. “Wanna try it out?” he asked. And he couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t flinch or pull away from his hand, just standing there all relaxed.

His heart gave a sweet pulse.

She whistled low. “Dunno. I have a feeling I’d just trip and fall,” she chuckled.

“I’ll catch you,” he promised – then winced, realizing how invasive that sounded only _after_ saying it.

And Lisa blushed. Honest-to-god, she blushed, her cheeks darkening and blotching in red. 

_Swoon.  
_

Clearing his throat, he tried, “Seriously, though, it’s not that hard. Just like any other board, just a little more wiggly.”

She chuckled at that, saying, “That’s not much help.”

“Seriously,” he pressed. “I mean, is it your first time on a skateboard?”

“Well, no,” she answered with a shrug. “I’m not much good at any tricks, but I’ve used ‘em before.” Then, hooking her thumb at the pile of backpacks and purses on a table nearby, she said, “I’m more of a rollerblader.”

Oh. Nodding, he checked, “So, you have ‘em here?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded back. “I take ‘em with me most anywhere with a walking travel time.”

Now he glanced over at the open area near them, judging how much space they had. The room was pretty big and there was a _lot_ of unused area, though people were milling about pretty much everywhere.

Then his eyes landed on the stack of red solo cups and an idea popped into his head. Checking with Lisa first, he gestured the cups and suggested, “Wanna set up a little obstacle course? We could play around, show off,” he offered, even as he mentally corrected, _I could show off, keep your eyes on me…  
_

Maybe he was being weirdly possessive – he’d barely known Lisa for, like, two hours – but he just really wanted her focused on _him_. He’d never had a girl look at him the way she was doing, with intrigue and interest and totally lacking any kind of negativity…and he wanted more of it.

Is this what Raph had felt that first night he’d spotted Jo? Was that why Raph had punched him in the arm – because Raph had been going through this same wash of needy emotions? 

 _Alright, I forgive him,_ Mikey thought.

Back in the moment, Lisa tilted her head to look at the stack of cups, revealing her pale, thin neck in the process and successfully derailing his train of thought. His tongue absently wet his lips, wanting so bad to kiss her there and see what she tasted like.

 _No, bad Mikey, be good,_ he snapped at himself, giving his head a shake.

Then Lisa turned a pleased smirk his way, saying, “Done. Lemme get my skates on,” and an unexpected wave of relief went through Mikey. God, this was _happening,_ he thought, trying and failing to fight off a wave of excitement.

At his nineteenth birthday party, he met a girl he was starting to think really liked him back. She spun and headed for her backpack as he went the opposite way, grabbing half the stack of cups – at least twenty, at a glance. That should do just fine.

He started setting them up in a pair of lines, coming out to twelve in each with one left over. He put that cup back with the others, set his board on one side, and waited. Lisa was almost done with her rollerblades, he saw; she was just tightening and strapping the second. They were an adorable bright pink, he saw, and it made him smile.

She was so _colorful_ , and damn, he loved it. Yellow high-tops, yellow-and- _orange_ streaked hair with one big pink streak in front, rainbow-painted nails, and now pink rollerblades? _Be still, my heart._

Once she finished her task, she got to her feet and glided over. At once his eyes were stuck to her, the way she moved – rollerblading, in general, was always pleasing to watch. The best performers used their entire bodies as momentum, and it resulted in highly aesthetic motions.

Lisa had that, and it made Mikey’s mouth go dry.

She stopped on the opposite side of the “track”, at the end of the other line of cups. Smirking at him, she lined up her feet, one in front of the other; in return he popped up the back end of his board, balancing it on the front wheels.

She giggled. “Show-off,” she chided.

Shrugging, Mikey quipped, “If you got the skills, may as well show ‘em.”

At that, she inclined her head. “Point.” Then she readied herself, as if they were competing.

He was _all_ for that, so he dropped the wheels back down, planted a foot on the ground, and readied as well. They met gazes, tense, waiting, listening for anything that would work as a starting bell.

The song playing in the background ended and a new one began, and they kicked off as soon as the lyrics began.

[ _Simmer down, simmer down_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2BYmmTI04I)  
[ _They say we’re too young now to amount to anything else_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2BYmmTI04I)  
[ _But look around_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2BYmmTI04I)  
[ _We worked too damn hard for this just to give it up now_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2BYmmTI04I)  
[ _If you don’t swim, you’ll drown_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2BYmmTI04I)  
[ _But don’t move, honey_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2BYmmTI04I)

Mikey wove around the cups one wheel at a time, flipping to go backwards and then forward again every other cup; Lisa glided through them on one blade, spinning around a single cup every so often on her toes, swapping between blades as she went. When she went backwards around them, weaving perfectly, while keeping a steady smirk on _him_ , Mikey had a literal _doki doki_ moment.

Now all he had to do was give her the same sensation.

He could do that.

* * *

Put bluntly, Lisa was having _way_ too much fun. She found Mikey _hilarious_ , and charming in a goofy, genuine kind of way. He wasn’t putting on airs when he cracked jokes – he just really liked to make people laugh. He was making _her_ laugh all the time. As they went round and round the obstacle course, pulling tricks and showing off, she had a permanent grin on her face.

He was goofy as hell and in the best way. When she did a couple spins during their competition, taking her eyes off him for a second to watch her feet, she found him doing a handstand when she looked back up again. It made her crack up, tossing her head back.

It also made her trip as her wheel collided with a cup and threw her back. Although she yelped on the way down and her back stung from the landing, she found herself laughing again from the absurdity of the fall.

“Lisa!” Mikey was on her in a second, offering her a hand. “You okay?” he asked.

Nodding, she took his hand and let him haul her up. “Yeah, I’m good, just got a little surprised,” she chuckled.

He laughed. “Sorry, I was just tryin’ to make you laugh, not…fall over.”

Shrugging a shoulder, she checked, “Isn’t that the point of laughing?”

He grinned, looking away.

It wasn’t until now that she realized she hadn’t even _hesitated_ to take his hand a moment ago. Here she was, staring a literal mutant in the face, and she was having _no_ trouble with it. How weird was that?

He had bizarre three-fingered hands and green skin and a really wide face and this bulgy shell on his back, and she was _fine_ with that? But…as alien as he looked, she didn’t feel the least bit threatened or intimidated by him. She couldn’t really say the same for his brothers or even his father, but Mikey…

…Mikey _felt_ harmless, like he couldn’t hurt her if he tried. Besides, the care he’d shown her earlier…it’d been moving. He was surprisingly good at giving comfort, easing the throbbing in her nose with just some cooed placations and back rubs.

It made her want to lean into him and let all the stresses of her life fade away, leaving nothing behind but a smile on her face and calming warmth. She was starting to think he could really do it, too.

She hadn’t held his hand for longer than she had to, dusting off her backside once she was back on her feet, but that one moment had done a number on her heart.

He was the ultimate sweetie, wasn’t he? It was making the part of her mind she’d always kept closed off…start to act up. She avoided thinking on that as much as possible, yet she couldn’t quite halt a series of thoughts about how clear and honest and innocent his eyes were. In fact, she found it hard to look away from those bright baby blues.

But it was getting late and she couldn’t afford to hang back any longer. Already Rosa and Jessica had left, and Cassie was on her way out. It was after ten, after all.

It’d take Lisa over an hour to walk home from here, and that didn’t include taking the subway to shorten the time. There were 40-minute waits between transits for the one she needed, and the next one was coming soon. If she missed it, she’d be almost an hour later to get home.

And she’d promised her mother she wouldn’t show up after midnight again.

Thus, she forced herself to say goodbye. “This was a lot of fun,” she told Mikey with an honest smile, “but I really can’t stay any longer.”

His face fell – straight from pleased to disappointed. “Oh,” he replied dumbly. “Well…yeah, of course. It’s late. Gotta get your sleep.” 

 _Damn,_ but he looked like a kicked puppy right then. Head down, idly shifting his skateboard back and forth under his foot. It tugged at her heart. This was his first birthday party – _their_ first birthday party, Jo had said. The brothers had never had one before. Mikey had probably been having the time of his life.

Unable to resist offering some comfort, she reached out and rubbed at his arm. “Hey, I’m serious,” she told him, and he glanced up, eyes tentative. “I had a great time. And I’m just guessing, here, but that smile you couldn’t wipe off your face for the last _hour_ tells me you did, too.”

The teasing jab had that wide grin appearing again. Gesturing her, he replied, “All thanks to you, babe.”

She snorted, though the word ‘babe’ made her stomach do a little flip. “Thanks to _Jo,_ more like,” she corrected. “She set all this up.”

“You spun the tunes,” Mikey pointed out.

And she was _just_ prideful enough to take extra credit when offered. Shrugging, she quipped, “What can I say? I’m descended from the Greek muses.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then promptly shut it. He’d done that a few times before; she suspected he was swallowing comments he knew he shouldn’t be saying. Someone had probably warned him not to go too far with his words. And considering how far he _had_ gone, honestly, Lisa felt grateful for whoever that had been.

She moved back a bit, giving him some room. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she would ever see him again. Maybe so, maybe not; she’d still remember this night fondly for the remainder of her days.

“Goodbye, Mikey,” she finished, then headed to the wall where her backpack sat. She took off her rollerblades and put on her shoes, stuffing the heavy plastic objects in her backpack.

She had it shouldered and a hand on the door when he suddenly called out, “Wait, Lisa – can I walk you home?”

That made her pause, sending him an uncertain look. It was such an innocent query, something a twelve-year-old would say. But this was New York, and Mikey was a stranger; she knew better than to just trust the appearance of innocence.

But, god, she’d _love_ to have him escort her back. Yet, at the same time, she wondered how long it would take, what route they would need to follow, and hesitated at the idea of him knowing where she lived, regardless. Her instinct was to trust him, but could she really? She barely knew him…

There were too many risks for her to just agree. She was about to decline when she caught sight of Jo from over his shoulder.

Right then, Jocelyn was straddling Raphael, the two of them chatting with huge smiles on their faces. Light bulb.

“Uhh, hold that thought,” she suggested with a patient gesture towards Mikey. As he nodded, intentionally directing his attention down to his board in a blatant show of respect, Lisa hurried past him. “Jo!” she called. “Can I talk to you?”

Jocelyn looked over, delight in whatever Raphael had been saying lingering in her eyes. “Yeah, sure, what’s up?” she asked, drawing back from Raphael to a stand for some semblance of propriety.

Raphael was clearly annoyed with that, but made no move to interrupt the girls. He just tilted his head, watching them.

At once, Lisa felt intimidated. How Jo handled that giant beast’s fearsome visage, Lisa would never know. Then, wanting a bit more privacy, she pulled Jo with her away from the red-clad mutant.

“So, um,” she began, tentative, “Mikey asked to walk me home, and…I don’t know if I should let him?” she said, her uncertainty turning her sentence into a question.

Jocelyn blinked, then grinned. “Aww, that’s so sweet!” she cooed.

Admittedly, yes, it was. Lisa couldn’t help biting her lip from how cute the idea was. “Yeah, but like…I’ve only known him for like five hours,” she hinted.

Understanding clicked in Jo’s eyes. “Ahh, you’re not sure if it would be safe for you.” When Lisa gave a sharp, insistent nod, Jo chuckled. “Lisa, honestly, you have _nothing_ to fear. These guys, turtles or not, they’re the most upstanding, protective, and honorable people I’ve ever known. Gentle to a _fault_. And Mikey…”

She paused, looking his way; Lisa followed her gaze to find Mikey doing some standing tricks on his board, glancing up every so often to look towards the girls in none-too-subtle ways.

Grinning, Jo finished, “Mikey’s the _least_ harmful. Think of him like a puppy – he couldn’t hurt you if he tried. He just wants your attention, to have fun and give affection. That’s all. And, not to stress the point too hard, but you couldn’t ask for a better escort,” she added with a pointed look.

That had Lisa’s head tilting. “Whadaya mean? I mean, I know they’re supposed to be ninjas and whatever, but–”

“Exactly,” Jo interrupted. “Lisa, if you say yes you’re gonna have a powerful, skilled, ferocious defender all the way home. No one will even have a _chance_ to lay a finger on you. He might not look it, but Mikey _is_ a ninja, just like his brothers. Plus I’m sure he’ll make you laugh the whole way,” she finished with a wink.

All excellent points. Sure, Lisa and Jo didn’t know each other very well, but Lisa trusted her judgement. After all, Jo had set up this awesome party, making promises the whole way, and every one of them had been upheld.

Convinced, Lisa nodded to herself, biting her lip. “Okay…okay, yeah. Thanks.”

Grinning, Jo gave her a little shove. “No problem. Now off you go.”

Teetering between giddy excitement and nervous butterflies, Lisa headed back over to Mikey. Her face must have betrayed the good news, because when he caught her eyes, he smiled.

“That offer still good?” she teased.

“Till the end of time,” he retorted. He gestured the door with one arm, absently lifting his board to his back as he did so. “So, what crossroads am I looking for?”

It was oddly chivalrous, him taking charge like that, yet also respectful. He didn’t ask for her address, didn’t push for details. He just politely asked for what he’d need to know as escort.

 _Think of him as a puppy._ Well, that was easy; he freaking acted like one! From the deflated look he’d given when she’d said goodbye to his ill-concealed eagerness now, he may as well have _been_ a puppy.

That made it so easy to give her crossroads. She found herself saying, “Okay, lead the way – I trust you.”

A sudden light lit up his face. It was so blinding she found herself blushing, glancing away and rubbing at her cheek to try and control the blood flow.

“…I won’t let you down,” he promised. “You’ll get home safe.”

The fact that he didn’t even follow that with an ‘or’ statement somehow made it feel all the more solid. At once, Lisa had the distinct feeling that she’d made the best possible choice – both by agreeing to attend this party, and by accepting Mikey’s escort.

She was just a little worried where this might lead if she wasn’t careful.

* * *

_Score!_

This was the best day of his life! Granted, they’d never really celebrated their birthdays before – or hatchday, as Jo had kept saying – so it didn’t feel like a very special day, but the party, the dancers, the fun, _Lisa_ …it was all great. Mikey couldn’t have been happier.

Well, sure, he _could_ have, especially if he’d had a girl like Jocelyn hanging off him the way she’d been to Raph all night, but still. Between four personalized cakes for each of the brothers, those dances Jo and her friends had put on, the bitchin’ music via Lisa’s talented ear, an actual mountain of color-coded gifts from April, Casey, Jo, Splinter, Vern (of all people) and even Chief Vincent and a couple of the officers that’d been brought for safety and cover, and just being able to be in the spotlight for once…

…it’d left the youngest brother close to tears more than once. Not even the spat between Rosa and Deidre – that one that had bloodied Lisa’s nose when she got between them – had been able to bring down the night.

All in all, he appreciated April, Jo, and even the police chief all the more after seeing how much they’d planned for this night. It’d been a fantastic experience. And yet, somehow, he was more excited right now than he’d been all night – because now he was about to be alone with a girl he’d started to _really_ like.

His brothers were right to call him a flirt – he’d flirted with every girl he’d come into contact with (not that the list was terribly long) – but this was different. He didn’t just think Lisa was cute (which, let’s be honest, she was); he really liked her as a person…and he thought she liked him, too. Not to mention how much they had in common! Her favorite music genre was hip hop, she could break dance, she rollerbladed while he skateboarded, she was practicing the fine art of DJing, she loved video games – it was a match made in Heaven.

Plus there was the fact that she laughed at his jokes, and not just out of surprise like Jo and April tended to do. She thought he was funny, and he all but preened under the knowledge. After all, he was just self-aware enough to realize that most of his joking had always been done as a way to disarm serious moments and keep his brothers distracted from their tedious and solitary life. To have someone think his incorrigible sense of humor was amusing, genuinely amusing…

It was an incredible feeling. He didn’t want to think he’d fallen in love with her – he had just enough caution to keep bigger hopes from taking root – but he’d damn well fallen into _like_. If this is what it felt like to be smitten, well, he’d gladly have seconds.

 _“Someday you’re gonna find a girl who fits you way better and you’re gonna feel silly for focusing on Jocelyn at all.”_ That’s what Raphael had told him, and right now, Mikey finally got what he meant. Jo was great and all, and by now he could honestly say he loved her, but she paled in comparison to Lisa.

Admittedly he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed – he couldn’t count how often he’d gotten lost in a conversation or missed one entirely because his mind had wandered elsewhere – but honestly, right then, he felt like a genius for suggesting he walk her home. It’d give them just a bit more time to talk and learn each other, time for Lisa to grow accustomed to him, and time for him to prove he was trustworthy.

Ain’t nobody laying a finger on Lisa without her permission – not even himself. And, okay, maybe he was looking forward to someone trying, if only to show off for her. They’d spent a long while comparing sick moves on their respective wheeled transportation devices, but he hadn’t shown her any of his ninja or nunchaku skills.

He was more than a little eager to show her how cool he was.

As the pair of them strode to the door, she asked, “How do you usually get around? I can’t imagine you just walkin’ down the street.”

That brought a laugh out of him. “Would you believe I just put on a big cloak and no one notices?” She snorted; that’s a ‘no’. “We travel through the sewers when we’re not takin’ the Shellraiser.”

“The what?” she checked. “The _Shell_ -raiser?”

“It’s a truck, Donny built it,” he explained. “I named it.” And, yes, he was proud of that.

Chuckling, she approved, “I like it.”

_Swoon._

“Maybe I’ll get ‘em to let you see it someday,” he offered. When she arched her brow at him, he explained, “It’s really high-tech. Donny put all kinds of upgrades in it. It’s super cool,” he promised.

“Yeah?” she chuckled, expression uncertain.

She didn’t know what to think. That was understandable. She hadn’t seen it yet, she didn’t know how bad ass it was.

“Did you take it today?” she asked.

“Nah, we ran,” he answered, shaking his head.

Then she glanced down, and when she looked back up, she was confused. “Sooo…how do you plan on walking me home, then?”

Shrugging, he said, “I can stay outta sight while keeping an eye on you. Or we can take the sewers. It’s actually really clean…mostly,” he promised.

She shook her head. “I have to get home by midnight,” she told him.

No problem. “I have all of New York’s sewers memorized,” he told her. “A lot of the tunnels have water goin’ through ‘em. If we need to get somewhere quick, we just lay back on our shells and–” He shot his hand out in mimicry of speed.

Lisa’s brows hiked up. “Wait, so…you wanna take me through the sewers like that?”

“It’s like a really big waterslide,” he explained. And, thinking of her crossroads, he said, “I bet I could get you there in, like…thirty minutes. Tops.”

Her eyes bugged out. “No way, that’s a joke,” she concluded. When he shook his head, she blurted, “It’d take the _subway_ an hour.”

Shrugging, he offered, “We’d be goin’ a little slower but a lot straighter, and with no stops.”

Judging by the surprised look on her face, she hadn’t thought of that. Then, giving slow nods, she ventured, “Alright, okay…so you’re sure that’d work?”

Hands up, he said, “Promise, swear, cross my heart, hope to die.”

Not only would he get her home in a half hour, but if her deadline was midnight, that meant they’d have plenty of time to chat and have fun practically at her front door. Besides…he’d also get to hold her snug against him for a half hour straight.

What was better than that?

After a moment of thought, Lisa nodded. “Okay. Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

_Yes!!_


	2. The Best Night EVER!

**Rating:** PG (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

_Okay, Mikey, don’t fuck this up._

He chanted this over and over in his head as he plummeted to the ground, taking the quick way down to the street. He had to do this right, avoid making any mistakes, and not let his damn excitable, eager nature ruin everything. 

God, he so, so, _so_ badly wanted to go home with the news that Lisa was his girlfriend – or, at the very least, that he was going to see her again. That she was giving him the chance to _become_ his girlfriend. Just one chance, he thought, that was all he’d ever ask for. 

One chance, with Lisa, to prove he could be a good boyfriend, that he could make her happy – that he could have what his brother had…that he _deserved_ it. That was all he needed. 

As he neared the ground he kicked off the building to break his speed, using his nunchaku to hook around a street lamp and swing him forward. His arc had him landing in between two buildings, the shadows hiding him while he waited for Lisa to exit the doors. She’d had to take the elevator – the slow way down. He’d offered to carry her down the quick way, but Leo had pointed out how dangerous that was and Lisa had cringed at the idea anyway. 

Oh well, maybe next time. 

He’d told Lisa where he’d be waiting, so when she exited the building she headed his way right off the bat. She clearly wasn’t seeing him, her eyes searching the darkness, so he jumped up and waved his arm to show her where he was. 

She jolted; he winced, sinking down in place. Oops, he’d startled her. 

“Sorry,” he whispered when she came near enough. 

Sighing, she replied, “It’s alright. Forget it. So, where now?” 

He gestured ahead as he answered, “Just a few feet to the manhole.” 

Tilting her head, she checked, “Aren’t manhole covers, like, two hundred pounds?” even as she strode onwards with him. 

“Pfff,” was his reply. “I could one-arm that, no prob.” 

Her eyes widened _considerably_ , making her beautiful blues all the brighter even in this pitiful late-night lighting. 

It enchanted him, made him want to lean down and kiss her – _No, bad Mikey, you promised!_ he snapped at himself. 

Tearing his eyes away, he cleared his throat and tried to stay focused. Not an easy task with such a fucking diva at his side. As they reached the manhole, he couldn’t resist showing off by doing as he’d stated and hefting it up with one hand. 

He held it aloft as if it were no heavier than a pizza; Lisa’s jaw dropped open – oh, god, she had a tongue piercing, a little stud right in the middle. For the second time in his life, he felt a sudden pressure in his shell, his desire _skyrocketing_. His heart started racing, his head swimming…

She was going to kill him and she wasn’t even his girlfriend. 

Shaking off the stun with difficulty, Mikey gestured her closer. “W-well, come on,” he said, standing on the edge of the hole. 

Cautiously, she joined him on the other side, glancing down. “I can’t see anything,” she told him. 

_He_ could, but then his eyes were stronger than hers. Holding out a hand to her, he directed, “It’s only about seven feet down. Take my hand, I’ll lower you, okay?” 

For the first time she displayed a little hesitation. “Okay, but like,” she started, “there’s really no alligators in the sewers, right?”

Snorting, he replied, “Of _course_ there are. We’re cousins; they hang out every Thursday and Christian holiday.” With a sideways look, he told her, “They’re _very_ religious.” 

Shaking her head, she grinned and placed her hand in his. “Funny, Mikey,” she chided, and _holy shit_ the way she said his name pierced him right through the heart _every damn time._ Granted, this was just the second time she’d said his name, but still! _  
_

It was hard just keeping his hand steady as she stepped forward, into the hole, and he started lowering her down. He made it all the way to a kneel, his arm almost fully inside the opening, when she let go.

When she moved aside, chuckling nervously, he hopped down and reset the manhole as he went. Lisa went _instantly_ silent as darkness flooded the tunnels. 

At least until Mikey hit the flashlight on his backpack strap, lighting the tunnels in bright orange-tinted light. It was an extremely powerful bulb, so it illuminated all the way down to the first dead end – around two-fifty feet, at a glance. 

Giving Lisa a smile, he commented, “Oooh, spooky.” 

She slapped his arm, making him chuckle at the playful gesture. “Anyway, how long until this massive waterslide?” she asked. 

Shrugging, he answered, “Like three minutes.” 

Tilting her head, she queried, “Do you realize you keep giving weirdly specific time frames and numbers and such?” 

That gave him a moment of pause. _Had_ he been giving weirdly specific numbers? Huh, maybe… 

He replied, “Not really, but…hey, who’s got two thumbs and was trained as a ninja? This guy!” he declared, thumbing at himself with both hands. 

Lisa snorted. “Okay, I guess that was a stupid question on my part.” 

“No such thing,” he told her. 

She smiled, and it was like another arrow to the heart for the turtle. _God_ , he liked her. 

Reminding himself – again – to keep cautious and _not ruin this_ , he started off, talking to her the entire time to keep her distracted. He pointed out the drains and grates that led here as he went, how the water flowed, the intricacy of the tunnels. 

And when they reached the first slide, he stopped, letting her look around and get used to it. As she glanced left and right, she steadily grew more hesitant. 

“Okay,” she began, “that looks _really_ dangerous.” 

He shrugged. “Without a shell, maybe.” 

She gave him a dumb look. “ _I_ don’t have a shell,” she pointed out. “How do you expect me to go down that? I’d end up soaking wet and probably bloody.” 

He shook his head. “I was gonna carry you,” he told her. 

She paused, blinking, then blurted, “You didn’t tell me that!” 

He hadn’t? “…Oops?” he offered, giving her a sheepish grin. 

The look she gave him was annoyed. Okay, she doesn’t like it when he forgets to mention stuff. Noted. 

Holding out his hand, he said, “So, anyway, c’mon. I wont let you get hurt, I promise.” Maybe he was pushing a little hard, but damn it, he wanted this _so bad_. He wanted her in his arms, where that oddly citrus-y scent of hers could fully envelop him. He wanted her flush against him, able to feel her warmth and soft skin. He wanted her hair right there against his nose, caressing his face and lips. 

Holding back was hard, but damn it, he held back, letting her decide to move when she felt comfortable with it. Besides, they had time – about an hour – to just hang around right here if she wanted to. 

After a moment of inner debate, Lisa exhaled sharply, then nodded. “Alright,” she agreed, taking his hand and stepping up to him. He saw – and felt – her grow more nervous, and to be honest, he was feeling it, too. Her gaze skittered away from him, weight shifting from foot to foot. 

In his mind, Mikey imagined saying “to hell with it”, pulling her against him and kissing her. He imagined her taste, the feel of her tongue piercing, the sounds she might make. He forced out those visions with difficulty, though, knowing he really shouldn’t entertain them. Raph had resisted Jo for, like, a month; Mikey thought he could do the same, give Lisa time to really come to like him before jumping in. 

It was hard, though – it was hard to fight off the urge to audibly sniff her when he leaned down to loop his arm under her legs; it was hard not to grip her as tight as he could; it was hard not to nuzzle their noses with her face so close to his; it was hard not to comment on how fucking good it felt to have her in his grasp, her arms around his neck. 

And it was only going to get harder, he realized now. Deciding he needed to avoid temptation as much as possible, he made sure not to _look_ at her as he jumped into the rushing water. Her weight threw him off, slight though it was in comparison to his own, making his slide go higher and further out from center than usual. 

Lisa gasped, clinging tighter to him and drawing her legs up close. He couldn’t help securing his grip on her, both because _good god that felt amazing_ and to tell her wordlessly that he had her. 

It didn’t take him long to start maneuvering perfectly again, working with her weight to keep them steady. About a minute into this, she started to relax, even reaching out a hand to trail her fingers through the rushing waters beside them. 

She giggled; he grinned. He’d known she’d love this. 

When she moved to lift her head, though, he quickly grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back down, saying, “Whoa, bad idea!” 

She jolted a little from the move, giving him a confused look. “What, why?” she demanded, and, _shit_ , her face was _so close_ to his! He could feel her breath! 

And why? Because she couldn’t see as well as he could; she didn’t know when obstacles were coming. He yanked out one of his nunchaku and gave it a flick above their heads, a loud _clang_ reverberating as it rebounded off a low pipe before he put it back with a flourish. 

She ducked her head, practically shoving her face into his neck, and gave another nervous giggle. “O-okay, got it,” she gasped, “no doing that.” 

Good. There weren’t a lot of those obstacles – few pipes and fewer half-walls – but there were enough that she could end up with a concussion or worse if she popped her head up at the wrong time. 

“Good,” he agreed. “Your hair looks fantastic but I really think ‘red’ would clash with the rest.” 

She snickered. “Funny, Mikey,” she said again. 

_Arrow. To. The. Heart!  
_

Now that she was more calm, too, he couldn’t resist taking little chances to give her more fun. Every so often he took an arm off her to steer him left or right, managing little surfs and three-sixties; she laughed every time, a huge grin on her face telegraphing how much she was enjoying herself. 

He was making her laugh, showing her the fun side of living in the sewers, and it was making him so damn _happy_. Every so often she gave him this _look_ , this surprised but pleased glance that told him she appreciated him. Each and every one made his heart flutter, reinforcing his desire to just yank her face closer and kiss that laughing mouth. 

_Be good, don’t fuck this up,_ he told himself for the umpteenth time. 

Three times they encountered a pipe change, and though he warned her ahead of time, she yelped the first time they went from a concrete tunnel to open air. He had to work up to a turn before getting there, which was admittedly harder with Lisa in his arms, but he still made it to the correct pipe no problem. 

The second time was the fun one, because there was just no way to serpentine to get there – no amount of momentum would give them enough of a turn to make it. So instead he warned her that they were going to have to use his board. Though she nodded, she proved to be unprepared for what he did: grinding off a curved pipe and using the jet to launch into the correct tunnel. 

She gasped as the jet shot them forward, clinging tighter than she had since they’d first jumped into the waterslide. 

A low vibration in his throat betrayed how much he liked that; he fought to halt the noise before she could notice. 

The third pipe change was easy; she just laughed, a wide smile on her face, eyes shining with enjoyment. And Mikey finally admitted he really _was_ smitten. 

This was so different from his previous crushes; now that he had a girl he legitimately liked in his grasp, he could compare the others and found that he’d liked April, Jo, then Cassie…mostly because they were hot. Sure, they also smiled at him and sometimes laughed at his quips, but even factoring that in…

…it was _nothing_ compared to now. His brother had been totally right; Mikey felt _silly_ for crushing on the others now that he knew Lisa. 

When the waterslide route finally ended, he was honestly _glad_. Hanging onto Lisa for so long had been _lethal_ to his emotions, keeping him strung up between desire and nerves and denial. He’d never had this much trouble keeping himself from acting before, and having to stop his impulses to touch and sniff and nuzzle and – 

It was _really hard_. 

They still had a little way to go, but had to walk from here on out. He told her as much. 

Nodding, she checked, “So how many minutes and seconds izzat gonna be?” 

Okay, now she was teasing him and it made him grin. “Seven minutes, maybe,” he answered. Honestly, he couldn’t explain how he came up with these estimations – he never gave them any thought. The numbers just came to mind and always seemed to end up accurate. In a way, they just…felt right. 

Lisa pulled out her phone then and checked the clock. This was his first time seeing it and, unsurprisingly, it was _so cute_. The [**case**](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2d3db8f791c4373dfa1ea57163bc5b97/tumblr_messaging_p6qfb6zYA11suuue2_1280.jpg) was geometric and rainbow-colored, and the phone itself was also pink. No, it didn’t surprise him, but it _did_ make him smile. 

Giving him a look, she said, “Eleven-oh-four.” 

Gesturing ahead, he replied, “Let’s go.” They strode off together, and he found himself matching pace with her. Their heights weren’t all that different, so their steps were a similar distance; in no time they were in sync. And maybe it was a small and insignificant detail, but he liked it. 

He asked her about her favorite bands; she whined, “Oh, don’t make me pick.” 

He liked that, too. 

Seeing as how she didn’t like picking favorites, he offered a different kind of game: “or”. 

“Linkin Park or Limp Bizkit?” he asked. 

“Linkin Park, easy,” she replied. 

_Hell yeah.  
_

“Maroon 5 or Muse?” 

She hissed, “Ffffffff– pick a hard one, why don’t ya.” She gave it a moment of thought, then said, “Muse.” 

He kept going with the questions, growing steadily more and more pleased with her, right up until she turned it back around on him. She started pressing him about _his_ favorites, branching off into differing genres as she went, too. 

When she said, “50 Cent or Eminem?” he started laughing. 

“50 Cent,” he told her.

Surprised, she checked, “Yeah?” 

Grinning, he hinted, “He makes way better sex songs.” 

Face flooding in red, she looked away, and he realized _then_ that he probably shouldn’t have said that. Wincing, he muttered an apology. 

It took her a moment but she shook off her embarrassment. Then, spearing him with a sharp look, she commented, “Points for element of surprise.” 

…Mikey went ahead and took that as forgiveness. Absently scratching his cheek, he offered, “Seriously, I _am_ sorry. That was, uh…lewd.” 

This wasn’t Jo, he reminded himself. This was _Lisa_. Jo could take any sexual thing spoken and shamelessly turn it back around; Lisa, clearly, could not. Making a mental note of that, he added, “Won’t happen again.”

“I’d, uh…appreciate that,” she replied, nodding. 

Okay – no mentioning sex. It made Lisa uncomfortable. He could do that. 

…Probably. 

Soon enough they made it to their destination and he stopped. A metal ladder led up to the manhole above them, and provided his internal compass hadn’t messed up, they were right below the crossroads she’d given him. 

Going for a teasing tone, he said, “Time?” 

“Oh, we’re here?” she asked, glancing around. 

“Yep. What’s your phone say?” 

“Uhh…” She paused, digging it out of her pocket, and checked. The aggravated look she got told him his estimate had been right on; sure enough, she sighed, “Eleven-eleven.” 

He couldn’t help lifting his arms in a _told ya so_ manner. “Who’s great? I am, it’s me,” he declared. 

Giggling, Lisa nodded. “Okay, yeah, whatever, dude.” When he just grinned, pleased with himself _,_ she checked, “And this is the right place? You’re sure?” 

Pointing upwards, he said, “I can check.” She nodded, so he hopped onto the ladder and climbed up, nudging up the manhole cover a bit until he could spot the nearest crossroads sign. Yup, right on the mark! 

He dropped back down with a joyful, “Yup, we’re here!” 

The look she gave him then – head tilted, kind of sideways, an appreciative, admiring kind of gleam to her eye – gave him the _strongest_ urge to clutch at his heart. The hardest thing was _not_ doing it, honestly. 

A part of him was constantly demanding he let her know what he was feeling, but that meant tossing caution to the wind. It meant just leaping forward, kissing the _heck_ out of her, and cooing praises while he snuggled into her. And he really, _really_ couldn’t do that – not yet. 

As much as Mikey wanted to jump into a relationship feet first, he knew better than to do it. A few years ago he might have (god knows he’d declared April his girlfriend from day one), but since then he’d learned a lot. One such lesson said women _hated_ that sort of thing, so he was doing his best to keep his impulses under wraps. 

Besides, he’d told himself to keep chill, to just take it easy. Build a friendship with Lisa before revealing how damn badly he wanted more of her. It was the chivalrous thing to do, right? 

His head said _yes_ , but his heart was screaming _she’s the one, go for it!_ And, to be honest, he didn’t know which to listen to anymore. 

Lisa seemed totally oblivious to Mikey’s inner debate, idly pulling on the ladder. She asked, “So, what now?” 

Leaving that up to _him?_ Hah, that was a disaster waiting to happen – or an adventure. One or the other. 

His first thought, strangely, was of his board. So, shrugging, he pulled it loose and dropped it to the ground. “Wanna try, now?” he offered. 

Smiling, she nodded. “Actually, yeah,” she said, slipping off her backpack to set it aside. She stepped up onto his super high-tech ninja skateboard…

…and his excitement ramped up _so_ much higher. _Ohmygod, a girl is standing on my board, a_ girl _is standing on my_ board! He wanted to scream – he swallowed the impulse with difficulty, instead just keeping a hand up in case he needed to catch her. 

_“Whoa,”_ she breathed as she shifted her weight, learning the board’s unique balance. “Okay, yeah, I get what you meant by ‘wiggly’ now.” She seemed utterly fascinated as she tested the board, leaning this way and that. 

“Yeah, cool, right?” he checked, trying to deal with the wave of unfettered elation he was feeling right then. 

“Hell, yeah,” she agreed. 

_Swoon!  
_

Clearing his throat, Mikey pointed out the jet again, saying, “So, don’t step here, cause that triggers the jet. Got it?” 

“Got it,” she nodded. She positioned her feet, then kicked off, landing a quick and perfect Pop Shove It. 

His jaw dropped. She said she wasn’t good at skateboard tricks! Apparently she’d lied, haha. 

“What was that?” he demanded, amused. When Lisa glanced up, surprised, he laughed, “I thought you said you weren’t good at tricks, but that was _perfect!”  
_

Grinning, she looked away, cheeks tinting pink again. “Sometimes I can actually land a trick, not that big a deal,” she said at the tunnel. 

Gesturing wide, he declared, “It’s totally big! Hey, is there anything you wanted to learn? I could teach you,” he offered. 

Smiling now, she stepped down. “Thanks, Mikey,” she said, “but I don’t need to know this stuff. I was just goofin’ off.” 

“Isn’t that the point of skateboarding?” he challenged. 

She chuckled. “Good point,” she approved. Then, hopping back up on the board, she gestured wide. “Now what?” 

It was hard for Mikey to contain his excitement as he started a series of lessons, checking what she already knew and working on what she didn’t. She could do a Nollie but not an Ollie, as it turned out; she just couldn’t reverse the foot motions. It was cute as hell. 

A few times she devolved into giggles when she couldn’t get something down, and it tickled the hell out of him, too. They didn’t have _too_ long to hang out right now, but it made him hopeful that they could meet up again and continue the lessons. 

And her prediction from before came true: she tripped every so often, the board skittering away from her in a flurry of flailing limbs. 

Mikey caught her every time, and it made his heart race _every. time._

Having her in his grasp like that, laughing at herself as she got back on her feet, her face so close to his…it was _powerful_. God, he liked her – maybe even a little bit _too_ much. 

But, finally, it ended. Lisa checked her phone, sighing, “Eleven fifty-two. I shouldn’t push it,” she told him. 

He felt like sinking into his shell, disappointed. Then, eyes on her phone, he had a light bulb moment. He snapped his fingers, dug into his pocket to retrieve his own phone – suddenly _massively_ happy he’d pestered Donny about this until he got his own – and showed Lisa the device. 

“Trade numbers?” he offered, grinning – and maybe (but totally not admitted) holding his breath. 

At first she looked surprised, and then she smiled. “You have a cell?” she chuckled. “Wasn’t expecting that. Okay, here,” she said, gesturing for his, “I’ll put my number in yours.” 

Mikey had the lock screen open and the contact list up in record time, then handed it over. Lisa had done the same, and as she held out her phone for him, another wave of butterflies hit him. 

He was _trading numbers_ with a _girl!_ He could have screamed from the mixed nerves and joy. Instead, controlling those impulses, he just added a new contact (”Mikey”) and input his number. When they traded phones again, he couldn’t help grinning at the new contact in his. _Lisa._ He had her phone number! 

He wanted to whoop and cheer. 

Then, thinking quickly, he brought up the camera, aimed at her, and took a picture. The flash betrayed him, and she glanced up in amusement just in time for the camera to catch her extra-cute, surprised smile. 

_Fucking swoon!  
_

“Oh, my god, Mikey,” she laughed. 

Shrugging, he replied, “Hey, I had to. And, look, it’s such a cute picture!” He turned his phone towards her. 

Shaking her head, she averted her gaze. 

“C’mon, you’re so cute, look,” he pressed, unable to withhold how damn excited he felt right then. He stopped just shy of bouncing in place, honestly. 

Almost cautiously, Lisa looked up, spotted her candid snap, and looked away with a huge grin, covering her face. She groaned; he chuckled. 

She was just too precious. And when she looked up at him again, blue eyes looking brown in the dim, orange-tinted light of his flashlight, a little smile on her face…he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. 

He knew better. He’d _chosen_ not to move that fast, to give this relationship time before crossing that line. Following Raphael’s guideline, he knew he should at least wait for Lisa to show him the same level of interest. That would be the smart thing to do, the best tactic. 

But…she _looked_ like she was interested, too. He’d had her in his arms for a full half hour, and she never once showed anything but amusement and excitement. So many times their faces had been so close he could feel her breath on him, and she’d done nothing but smile and blush. That meant she liked him, too, right? She wouldn’t have given him her number if she didn’t like him, right? 

That meant it was okay to kiss her, right? 

Tonight had been the best night of his life, easily the luckiest he’d ever been. Thinking about that, it just made sense to give this a shot. 

Equally hesitant and eager, Mikey took a step closer to her, lifting a hand to her cheek – the first time he’d had his hand on her face. And, damn, her skin was soft and smooth and warm, her cheeks still pink from her blushing a moment ago. She lifted startled eyes to him. 

At that moment, holding her gaze, he could swear the only thing he was seeing in her was desire, like she wanted to kiss him, too. 

Maybe a stronger man would have resisted and just took her home. Right then, Mikey had never felt weaker. 

_Take your chance, Mikey,_ he told himself. 

He ducked his head, paused when he felt her stiffen, then finally closed the distance, bringing his lips to hers. At once, a sweet rush cascaded through him, a kind of mixture of relief and excitement and hope. 

For a second, nothing happened; then Lisa gave a sharp exhale-inhale, like a strangled gasp. A tiny fear wriggled through him, worried she would pull away from him. 

Instead, her hands lifted to his shoulders and she kissed him back, her back straightening to bring them closer. 

There was a kind of _snap_ in him then as his patience was broken. His free arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and he started kissing her the way he’d wanted to all along: with needy, firm pecks and little sucks at her lips. 

She shivered against him with a soft moan, nails digging into him, as she started keeping up with him. 

_Yes, yes, yes; fuck, god, yes!!_


	3. ...Or Not

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

They. Were. _Kissing!_

Enthusiasm pouring out of him, Mikey had a hard time controlling himself. The more he kissed Lisa, the more he wanted to _keep_ kissing her. It didn’t help that she was so responsive, her tiny, soft hands hanging onto him as she met his needy pecks. 

It was _incredible_ , better than he could have dreamed – and he _had_ dreamed about this. A lot. 

Like, _way_ more than was healthy. 

At first he was driven by pure need, nerves making him kiss her hard, eagerness in every meeting of lips. But he quickly started noticing the way Lisa was pivoting her head, telling him the way she wanted it, so he made a conscious effort to match her. 

He caught on fast, going from clumsy and sloppy kisses to more relaxed, precise ones. And Lisa responded by giving soft hums, her approval clear. 

Mikey’s mood _skyrocketed_. Not only was he kissing a girl – the _best_ girl alive, bar none – but she was _liking_ it! He was doing good, and the rush he got from her approval, alone, made him feel weak. Tied with the feel of her soft, curvy lips, though…

…he could have gotten stabbed and never have noticed, he was so distracted, so _elated_. 

When her hands lifted to his cheeks, giving an affectionate stroke, he just about died on the spot. His heart was already racing, making his arms shaky, but after that touch it grew worse. Something about that particular motion hit him deep, tearing a pleased grunt from him. One hand had to release her to grab the ladder beside him, gripping it so tight he heard his own skin grinding against the metal. 

God, _yes!_

He had to have more. This wasn’t nearly enough for him. “Lisa,” he purred against her lips, punctuating the word with a little lick. 

She sucked in a breath, then mimicked him, and the feel of her tongue dabbing at his mouth nearly made him collapse on the spot. But he held up, tried to catch her tongue, missed his shot; he groaned. 

Tentative and cautious and clumsy, they both kept trying to deepen the kiss only to clash. It took a moment and some nervous laughs before Mikey decided to take charge, pulling her tighter against him and bringing his mouth firmly against hers. 

The next time she eased her tongue out, he met it with his own, and a jolt of pure electricity went through him. He couldn’t help shoving his tongue into her mouth then, too desperate for it to resist. And though Lisa jerked, gasping, her arms circled his neck tight. 

Holding him that close. 

Mikey could have cried. 

He’d been thinking about her tongue piercing almost obsessively since spotting it, and now he found the feel of it was _divine_. The metal stud was hot to the touch, and the way it dragged across his tongue was the most seductive thing he’d ever felt. And her _taste!  
_

No wonder Raph had such a hard time resisting Jo when she wanted a kiss – girls tasted _amazing!_ And Lisa’s flavor was even better than pizza and Orange Crush! _Combined!_ It was better than the sweetest candy, the headiest flavor. It went straight to his head, leaving him feeling dizzy. 

He couldn’t help moaning into her mouth, realizing in a rush that he was already addicted. He was going to need her kiss more than air from this moment onwards. 

Just as he was starting to think about how he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend – sure, it was silly at this point, but he desperately needed the confirmation from her – she suddenly stiffened and yanked back from him, ripping her lips from his with a sharp _smack_. 

She gasped, “Ohmygod, what am I doing?” as she reached up, gripping her hair, her gaze on the ground rather than him. 

Mikey’s high plummeted. Her reaction now threw him off, leaving him unbalanced. What just happened? Confused as hell, he couldn’t even form a word, a hand reflexively reaching for her. But Lisa spun from him, took a step away, and started shaking her hands and bouncing, like she was fighting with herself. 

Pain speared through him. He couldn’t grasp what was happening now – just a second ago she’d been kissing him so sweetly, clinging to him and verbally humming her joy. 

Now she wasn’t even looking at him, horror dripping from her every motion, and for a second it felt like his heart stopped. He tried thinking back, looking for any sign of reluctance on her part, something that could account for this reaction…but he could think of nothing. She’d hesitated for a split second when he’d kissed her, yeah, but _only_ for that split second. She’d enjoyed every second following it and had seemed to be asking for his kiss the moment before contact. 

She’d wanted this, he was sure of it. 

So what the hell had happened? 

Tentative, he called her name – it took him two tries to get past the lump growing in his throat. She seemed to freeze in place, shoulders hunching. 

He could fix this. He _could_. He just needed to know what was going on. Whatever hesitations or concerns she was feeling, he could ease them. Thinking of how well Raph and Jo worked together, despite their differences, Mikey _knew_ he could make it work with Lisa. 

“H-hey,” he started, unsure how to talk to her now, “this…what happened…it’s okay,” he told her. “I’m sorry if I moved too fast. I won’t do it again, not till you’re ready. Okay? …Lisa?” 

She hugged herself, then finally turned back towards him. Her eyes were swimming in tears, he saw immediately, and the sight filled him with dread, heartache rending through his chest. 

_Please…no, Lisa, don’t say it,_ he thought, though the words caught in his throat. 

Voice tormented, she said, “Mikey, that’s not–”

A sudden fear that she was about to reject him made him interrupt her with a rushed, “Hey, it’s fine, we can make this work! Raph and Jo did; we can, too!” 

“Mikey…” she sighed, her expression pinching with sorrow. 

_Fuck._ That was even worse, seeing her look at him like that – because it meant that it didn’t matter what he said. She was going to walk away from him and the girl he liked most in the world was going to leave him broken. 

His heart was already tearing apart, the feeling making his eyes fill. Begging, now, he pleaded, “Lisa, please, don’t…” 

“I have a boyfriend,” she confessed, shame oozing from her. 

Just like that, his world shattered. A cold rush washed through him, thankfully numbing the pain wrenching through his chest. Caught somewhere between disbelief – she was lying; she _had_ to be – and desperation, he bit out dumbly, “Fight him for you.” 

Lisa’s face crumbled. “Mikey…” she said, more pain than ever in her voice. 

…Not lying, he concluded. That sorrow…that wasn’t faked. No one was that good an actor. 

He looked away, the chill from before fleeing and letting him feel unfettered pain in its place. She had a boyfriend – god, of _course_ she did! It was stupid of him to assume otherwise. She was the girl of his dreams, a perfect representation of everything he’d ever wanted. 

She’d have boys throwing themselves at her feet. Of course she already had a boyfriend; when you had the whole of the male population at your beck and call… It was stupid to think Lisa hadn’t found the perfect boy for her by now. 

And why would she ever pick a damn mutant when she could have any guy in the world? 

He bumped his head into the metal ladder, tense as hell and fighting off tears as his heart continued to rend and tear. 

Aching for him, Lisa reached out, saying, “Mikey, don’t–” as she laid a hand on his arm. 

He jerked away from her, that touch sending another painful spear through him. Shell positioned towards her, he thought he heard her sob and gasp, but he couldn’t turn to see. 

God, he’d _had_ her. He’d had her in his arms, kissing him like she wanted him as much as he wanted her. 

And it’d just…fallen apart. 

“I’m so sorry, Mikey,” Lisa whispered, her tone broken. “I should’ve said…I didn’t notice…I’m sorry,” she insisted. 

He couldn’t listen to this. He already felt like he’d broken into pieces; her apologies were just going to make it worse. Ignoring her as best he could, he swung around to the ladder, climbed up it, and shoved the manhole cover out of the way with a hard shove. 

He dropped down and stood off to the side, waiting for her to go. _Just leave,_ he thought, struggling to hold back his own tears. 

At first Lisa didn’t move. She said, “Mikey, I didn’t mean–”

“Just go home,” he told her, his pain only growing with every second she stayed in his presence. 

She hesitated a moment longer, making sounds like she wanted to say something, before turning to the ladder and climbing it. He’d never felt more conflicted before – half of him wanted to yank her back down and into his arms, to _demand_ that she break up with whoever she already had; the other half wanted to erase his own damn memories, to banish her forever. 

God, she was _perfect_ , and for one whole minute, that perfection had been _his_. 

Now he had nothing. 

As much as she’d hurt him tonight, he still found himself listening to her footfalls, utterly focused on her even now. As soon as he couldn’t hear her steps anymore, he clambered up the ladder once more to right the manhole cover. Then, back on his feet, stuck in the darkness of the sewers…back to the home he’d never hated more than right now…he reached up to turn off his flashlight, leaving the tunnels so dark he could barely see, even with his sharp eyesight. 

It was, in turns, weirdly appropriate for his mood and the most depressing setting ever. 

For a long moment he didn’t know what to do. He _should_ just go home, but right now he couldn’t face his family. They were probably all happy, still riding a high from the party, and he’d just bring them down. Worse, they’d undoubtedly try and comfort Mikey, and if they showed him pity…

…he’d just die. 

No. He’d rather be alone. 

He turned and started walking, for once feeling no inclination to run or hop on his board. It was like everything he’d loved most about himself had left, leaving only pain and emptiness in its wake. 

_Don’t think about her,_ he told himself. 

He couldn’t _stop_ thinking about her. 

In a twisted way, this made perfect sense. Mikey was, ultimately, the epitome of unluckiness. Everything he’d ever truly wanted and needed had been denied him. Tonight he’d truly _felt_ lucky for the first time, like all his patience had finally paid off. But the thing was…his life had always been, and _would_ always be, one disappointment after another. 

He’d never be as lucky as Raph was. He was never going to find that kind of love, the kind that made life worth living. If any one of them was going to live and die forever single, it was Mikey. 

All the affection he had bottled up was going to be stuck there until the day he died. It was fated by this point. 

Eventually his aimless wander led him to a dead end, nothing but a grate in the floor ahead of him. Faced with this obstacle he found the weak motivation that had kept him walking this whole time was now gone. So he sat down, bringing up his knees so he could lean on them. 

Stuck in some kind of Limbo, nothing happened for a long time. He was just staring aimlessly at the concrete in front of him, the constant pain in his chest sometimes stronger and sometimes weaker than usual, unable to really think of anything. His eyes were still wet, but somehow no tears had fallen yet. 

He must be stronger than he thought he was. 

His phone blipped sometime later, the noise distracting him from the circular thoughts going around in his head. He gave a snuffle and rubbed his nose as he sat up, digging out the phone. His first thought was that it was Donny, checking on where he was. 

Instead there was a preview of a text from Lisa. It said, _I’m sorry about tonight. I messed up. If I’d kno…_ before getting cut off. 

A wave of renewed pain surged through him, and he found himself wishing he could redo today and never speak to her. He wished he could hate her, but she’d been so torn up, he just couldn’t. This was his own damn fault, assuming she was single and making a move without checking with her first. 

It didn’t make his pain any less crippling. 

In an impulsive, violent gesture, he chucked the phone away from him; it collided with the concrete tunnel and shattered into pieces, flinging in all directions. A fleck of plastic ricocheted off his leg, leaving a little cut behind, but, honestly, who cared? It wasn’t like he could get an infection. He could cover himself in cuts and roll around in the filthy gutters and never catch a damn thing. 

A part of him lamented that. 

Then, finally, the despair he’d been fighting for the last who-knew-how-long crashed into him all at once. It wasn’t even about Lisa anymore – it was about him and his god damned cursed existence. Thoughts of isolation and loneliness and rejection ran through his head as tears began falling, sobs ripping from his throat despite his efforts to hold them back. 

It was clear, now, that Mikey’s life was nothing but sacrifice. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to end up fighting to protect people who’d never know him or accept him for the rest of his life. A part of him was okay with that – people were worth protecting, he thought – but the rest? 

The rest of him _hated_. 

This event with Lisa had put into crystal clarity that he’d never have what he wanted. So he started hating – he hated himself for being a mutant, April’s father and Eric Sacks for turning him into what he was, his family for accepting their lot so much easier than he did, humans for being so fucking biased… 

…and Raphael, for having what Mikey never would. God, it was going to be so hard, harder than ever before, to see how happy Raphael was with Jocelyn. 

Soon Mikey was nothing but a mess, hugging his knees, head down, rocking back and forth in a vain attempt to ease the pain in his chest. The sobs had tapered off, but the tears continued to drip. 

Maybe this would be easier if he’d gone home and let his brothers comfort him. Right now it didn’t feel like it; it felt more like accepting their compassion would only have wrecked him even worse. Besides, if they knew how badly he’d crumbled tonight, they’d only turn even more protective of him. 

He would hate them if they did. 

Now that he’d calmed, though, a headache had set in. His head was throbbing with his pulse, and it was almost as painful as his heart. Utterly miserable, he wondered what he should do now. He kept thinking he should just go home, but he felt no inclination to do so. 

Familiarity would help, he thought, so why didn’t he feel like he wanted it? 

To hell with it. He could spend a night out. It wasn’t like he was aboveground. His bros would be pissed, but they’d get over it. 

So Mikey shifted, throwing off his backpack and board, and reclined on his shell. Surely, after a nap, he’d feel a bit better. 

* * *

When Mikey woke up again, two things became clear: he’d drifted off _way_ faster than usual, and he could hear his name being called. Sounded like Leo and Donny. 

Oh, great. That meant he’d been out way longer than he’d meant to be, and his bros had set out to hunt him down. For a moment he wondered why they didn’t just call him, but then he remembered he’d traded out his radio with the phone – and last night he’d broken it. 

Hauling himself up, Mikey stretched stiff muscles, hearing audible pops from some of his joints. And for a moment he stayed right where he was, memories from yesterday flooding back to him. 

_Lisa._

Even now he yearned for her, and it made his heart clench and squeeze painfully. He shook his head, fought down a new wave of sorrow, and forced himself to start walking. He could rebound from this. He could. No – he _would_. He told himself this over and over as he followed the sound of his brother’s voices, realizing as he went that they must have started this hunt from Lisa’s crossroads and worked their way out. 

How long had they been at this? Hours? Mikey’s mood dropped further as he realized what a burden he’d placed on his brothers, how stressed and worried they must have been. He’d been so lost to his own despair he hadn’t thought about how scared they’d be when he didn’t come home or answer his phone. 

He started to yell out for attention, paused to clear his throat, then called, “I’m fine!” 

He was still just walking, though, all his usual energy gone even after his rest. He knew his brothers were going to notice, and he didn’t want to worry them further, so he made himself pull out his board and start skating towards them. 

_Act normal,_ he told himself. Easier said than done. 

It wasn’t until he actively caught himself thinking what he would be doing now, how he would be behaving if he weren’t so damn depressed, that he realized this was never going to work. Leo, especially, was going to see right through him. 

He had two options, then: give up, or try harder. 

Thinking of how his brothers were going to react if they knew he’d had his heart broken, he chose to try harder. 

As he rounded a corner and spotted Leo and Donny, he plastered on a grin. Arms wide, he demanded, “What, a guy can’t get lost and fall asleep in a random tunnel anymore? What has the world come to?” 

Donny sighed; Leo shook his head. 

“Where’s your phone?” Donny demanded. 

“Dropped it,” Mikey told him, “during a pipe change.” He whistled and mimed an object falling with his hand, ending the move by clapping his hands together in mimicry of an impact. 

“You had us worried,” Leo chided. 

Shrugging, Mikey offered, “Sorry, bro. It was late, I got tired. Figured a nap wouldn’t hurt.” 

Donny rubbed at his neck, then said, “Want me to get you a new phone?” 

Immediately Mikey’s mind seized on Lisa again. He remembered the picture he’d taken of her, how elated he’d felt upon seeing her contact in his address book…and every digit of her phone number. 

His heart gave another painful clench. 

“Nah, it was gettin’ annoying anyway,” he denied, passing his brothers – trying to hide his expression as he went, just in case he was showing anything too obvious. Then, turning back, he said, “We goin’?” Not waiting for a response, he kicked off, messing around on his board as he went the way he normally would. 

There was no joy in this, no sense of accomplishment and fun, the way it always had been before. 

Leo and Donny were jogging to keep up, and for a few moments they were silent. Then, hesitant, Leo asked, “So, did Lisa get home alright?” 

“Yep,” Mikey answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while feeling a painful clench in his throat. “Said I’d get her home fine, and I did.” 

“Yeah?” Donny said, tossing Leo a questioning glance. “How’d it go? The two of you hit it off pretty well.” 

That was the _last_ thing Mikey wanted to hear. Still, he forced out with a measure of levity he didn’t feel, “ _Yeah_ , but we just weren’t meshing. Don’t think I’ll see her again.” 

“You weren’t meshing?” Leo echoed, voice swimming in disbelief. 

“Nope,” Mikey agreed, keeping his eyes pointedly on his board. God, this was painful – when were they going to shut up and leave him alone? 

Leo made a nonspecific grunt. He and Donny shared a look; Donny ventured, “Mikey, did you–” 

And Mikey couldn’t help it. He didn’t think. He just bit out, “Shut up.” 

He couldn’t talk about this anymore. Every word on this subject – the subject of _her_ – just sent another pulse of pain through him. He had to avoid it or he might end up with internal bleeding. 

For a moment his brothers just stopped running, and Mikey was kind of glad for that. He’d rather skate along, alone, than have to listen to more of this conversation. 

Then, running to catch up, Leo demanded, “What happened?” 

The concern in his brother’s voice only made Mikey feel worse. He didn’t answer, hoping his silence would be enough to clue them in. He didn’t want to – he _couldn’t_ – talk about this. 

He could still taste Lisa on his tongue, and that, alone, was going to wreck him. He needed to get home and wash out the flavor before it did more damage to him than it already had. And he should probably throw out the shorts he was wearing, too, just for good measure. 

Working together, Donny helped Leo jump in front of Mikey to block him; Mikey jumped over Leo, kicking off the tunnel, to land back on his board and keep going. But rather than let it go, that just seemed to make his brothers more determined, turning their traveling into a chase. 

Now Mikey was really trying, but not out of enjoyment – out of _fear_. He knew where this was going and he was too much of a coward to face it. He snapped at his brothers to just drop it; they refused, and eventually Leo got a hand on Mikey and yanked him back, making his board go skittering down the tunnel. 

Mikey jerked out of Leo’s grip, snapping, “Just leave it!” 

Donny ran off to grab the board while Leo shot back, “Tell me what happened!” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it; don’t you get that?!” Mikey shouted. “Just leave me alone!!” 

And Leo recoiled, looking at Mikey like they’d never met before. And that just made Mikey’s pain worse, knowing that he’d undoubtedly shocked and hurt his brothers just now. His previous self-hatred only worsened, and he turned, snatching his board from Donny’s stunned grip, and set off again. 

Leo and Donny didn’t keep up, giving Mikey a huge lead on them. He heard them quietly talking, but he could neither hear them nor did he care what they were saying at this point. He made it home ahead of them and just went right to his room, tossing off his backpack and throwing himself on his waterbed. 

Normally the sloshing of the bed amused him; right now it irritated him. 

Snatching up a pillow, he clutched it tight, shoved his face in the material, and focused on breathing. He needed a new plan; that much was clear. He couldn’t pretend nothing was wrong, but he also couldn’t deal with his brothers trying to help. He loved them, but they had no idea how he felt and he couldn’t survive trying to explain it to them. 

God, he missed Lisa already. As he struggled to think of how to get around this issue, how to banish the pain, she was always floating somewhere in his thoughts. It hurt – it felt like he was being repeatedly stabbed in the heart – and he hated it, but he couldn’t seem to be able to shake his thoughts of her. 

He needed something. A distraction. Something more powerful than how he felt for her. 

Hah, as if such a thing existed. 

Short of that, he needed to just keep trying. She would leave his memory eventually; all he had to do was shut down his thoughts of her whenever they popped up. All he had to do was force her out, banish her. That shouldn’t be too hard, he thought; he didn’t have a phone anymore so she couldn’t call or text him. 

And she was Jo’s friend, which was an issue, but that just meant he wasn’t going anywhere with _her_ from now on. Even the chance that he might see Lisa somewhere made him cringe, lingering eagerness conflicting with heartache. God, how fucking pathetic was he? 

She’d shot him down and he _still_ wanted her. At least he’d gotten out all the tears already so he didn’t feel a need to cry. That was a tiny silver lining. 

Okay, so, new plan: lay down the law with his brothers. No bringing up Lisa or the birthday party or anything after it. None. At least, not with Mikey in earshot. If they listened to that, then he could start getting over this. It was a simple plan, but he thought it would work. 

First, thought…first he had to find the motivation to get up out of bed and face his brothers. Couldn’t tell them the plan otherwise. 

He didn’t get up. Instead, Mikey just sighed, unwanted flickers of memories going through his head: Lisa smiling, Lisa cuddled against him, Lisa laughing, Lisa’s warm cheeks, Lisa’s citrus-y scent, Lisa looking at him with admiration…

…Lisa’s face crushing with sorrow and pain. 

_Cursed,_ he thought again. _I’m cursed._ Not only had he been hurt yesterday, but he’d hurt _her_ , too. Feeling like the worst piece of scum imaginable, he ducked further into himself, as if he could hide from his broken emotions in his pillow. 

There was a soft knock at his curtained doorway. Leo’s voice called, “Mikey, bro? …Can we talk?” 

_No,_ Mikey thought, but he forced out, “’Bout what?” 

“I think you know.” 

Lisa. Of course. 

“No.” 

Leo sighed. “Look, I want to help–” 

“No talking about her,” Mikey told him, looking towards the doorway to make sure his voice was heard clearly. “I don’t wanna hear it.” 

There was a moment of pause, then Leo said, “Can you at least tell me what happened?” 

“Nothin’ to tell. If that’s all you want, go away.” 

“Mikey–”

“Just go.” 

Another sigh. Leo said, “Fine. But sooner or later, we’re talking.” 

Mikey didn’t reply to that, and after a moment Leo’s steps led him away. Good. That conversation lasted a whole seven comments too many. But it gave Mikey a tiny ray of hope. 

If he could get Leo to agree to drop the issue – _Leo_ , of all people – he could get the others to agree, too. Easy peasy. In no time he’d be over this crush and back to normal. 

…Maybe.


	4. Limbo

**Rating:** PG (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

So that was that, then. 

As Mikey hung out in his room again, idly flipping through his collection of comics to try and distract himself (it wasn’t working), he came to realize exactly what’d happened with Lisa. Thanks to having had [**talk with Jocelyn**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190455/chapters/40419461#workskin), it’d all come into focus. 

Lisa couldn’t commit – not to a _turtle_. She wasn’t as brave as Jocelyn was, clearly, and he’d been such an _idiot_ , thinking he could just come right out and kiss her like that. He was certain, now, that she’d really liked him, and had he done the smart thing and not pushed – had he done like he’d decided beforehand and waited – she might have been able to warm up to him. 

Instead, he’d given in to his eagerness and she’d panicked. She’d picked a lie that she’d hoped would lessen the blow. She’d _tried_ to be considerate – Mikey hadn’t, had he? 

_No,_ he told himself, scowling, _you hadn’t.  
_

Despite how much he was hurting now, he had no one but himself to blame. Had he tried to build up a friendship with her, first, then right now he’d at least have had her as a friend. But, no. He’d let his emotions get the better of him and now – _crack!_ Heart in two. 

God, he was so _stupid_. Sure, he’d always known his mentality was lacking in comparison to Leo and Donny and Splinter – hell, compared to most everyone – but he’d never _felt_ stupid before now. 

_Dumbass,_ he thought, hating himself. How hard was it, really, to think ahead? He’d so easily forgotten that while he’d seen humans every day of his life, humans hadn’t seen _him_. He found women attractive as hell, with their gorgeous eyes and flirty smiles and bouncy hair – it’s what everyone “up there” was used to. 

_Of course_ Lisa wouldn’t be able to just find _him_ attractive, having known him for just a few hours. He was green, bald, had a shell and plastron he could do nothing about, and probably smelled like sewer. There was no getting around that, and it hadn’t even come to mind the entire time he was with Lisa. He’d never considered how she was seeing him – he’d just been entranced by the way he was seeing _her_. 

And like an _idiot_ , he’d ignored reality in favor of his fantasies. He hadn’t given a thought to what happens next, so focused on what was happening _now_. If he had…

Sigh. 

Trying to put this aside wasn’t going to end well, he knew it. Jocelyn was right to tell him he had to get _through_ it; his actions had created an enemy of himself and now he had to defeat it. She’d helped a bit, getting him to talk, discovering the truth, and then letting him use her shoulder to cry on. 

She was a good person. Good heart. He could honestly say he loved her like a sister – but he also kind of hated her. Not for who she was, of course, but for what she represented. 

Love. Not platonic, but _romantic_. Raph had that – the affection, the love, the physical attraction, the sex. They were so damn happy together. 

Mikey no longer had any hope that he would ever have the same thing. He was clearly not a participant in the game of love. He was just a spectator, an observer. 

It hurt so much to think of that, contemplating his future as the loneliest turtle, that he had to stop and remind himself that there were other things to live for. Sure, he might not ever get a girlfriend, or – god forbid – a lover, but he had his brothers and father. They had the city. They had friends, with more added to the list every year. 

He had his sports, his games, his passions. His skateboard, his nunchaku, his drum set, his comic collection. He had things to do, fun things to occupy his time. And, of course, he had his duty – alongside his brothers, they protected the _world_. 

That was worth living for, easy. 

…He just couldn’t help wishing for a girl, someone he could cuddle with and kiss and nuzzle into when he had a bad day. 

Sighing, he forced himself to rise, putting his comic back in place more out of a robotic habit than any desire to see it organized. Honestly, if not for Splinter’s discipline his room would be a wreck only _he_ could safely navigate. 

He strode from his room – the alcove on level and connected with the elevated section that he and Raph had once shared as a room – and hopped down to the ground floor. All conversation stopped at once, and right then Mikey felt like he was on display at a museum. 

All eyes were on him, waiting for him to do something. 

“What?” he demanded, irritated by the unwavering focus. 

A wave of glances went through the room – Jocelyn looked at Raphael; Raph looked at Leo; Leo looked at Donny; Donny shrugged. Then they went back to whatever they were doing, mercifully taking Mikey out of the spotlight. 

Ironic. Normally he loved being in the spotlight, had intentionally disobeyed orders in the past just for five seconds in that light. Now he wanted nothing more than to keep out of sight, out of mind. Though, to be fair, he’d never been in this situation before, with his brothers walking on eggshells for him. 

The rest of the day followed an uncomfortable theme. Aside from when they went to bed – and Jocelyn went home – Mikey was mostly subjected to quiet whispers whenever he was around, which, he admitted, was still better than the occasional checks on his emotional state. Plus Splinter kept looking at him, a kind of silent inquiry, and Mikey didn’t want to have a talk with his dad so he kept looking away whenever he noticed that look. 

For the sake of normality, he went ahead and cooked breakfinner – his special name for the fact that they had breakfast after dark – like usual. It wasn’t his best work, easy, but it gave him something to do, at least. 

It was awkward as hell to sit at the table, though, halfway listening as his brothers as they made painfully light comments. Mikey didn’t bother trying to engage them, knowing it just wouldn’t work. He kept civil enough, answering if they spoke to him directly, but his mind was constantly elsewhere. 

God, he still couldn’t get Lisa out of his head. And after all this thinking he realized something: she had fifteen piercings. Five in her right ear, seven in her left, two in her right brow, and one in her tongue. It made him wonder if she had more where he couldn’t see – then made him scowl as he realized he’d never know. 

It was pointless to think about such things. She wasn’t his and she’d never be his, and no amount of pondering was going to change that. 

He just wished he could stop thinking about her. 

“–do you think?” Donny was saying now. “Mikey?” he prompted when the youngest didn’t respond. 

Clicking back into the conversation, Mikey glanced over. “What?” 

For once, there were no groans, no sighs, no shaking heads. For once, none of his brothers looked annoyed that he’d spaced out. 

They did, however, look concerned. 

“I was asking if you wanted a replacement phone,” Donny told him. “I have your SIM card, so I can just pop it into a new phone. No need for remade contacts or anything.” 

That irritated Mikey. “You have the SIM card? How?” he demanded. And yes, he knew what that was – scatterbrained he was, but he knew enough to know how to use his phone. 

Uncomfortable now, Donny said, “I went back to where we found you and looked around. Found your phone.” 

_Great_. 

Not wanting to hear where this conversation was going, he got up from the table to walk away amidst protests. He ignored the calls for his attention, heading for the tunnel that would talk him topside. A little patrol might help. 

With luck he’d find someone whose ass he could kick. 

“Michelangelo!” 

He winced as his name was called, knowing he was probably in trouble from his father’s tone alone. Glancing back, Splinter gestured him over. 

“Come, sit with me,” Splinter directed. 

Mikey didn’t particularly want to, but they’d been raised to never disobey their father. So he followed the rat as he led them to Splinter’s alcove. Mikey’s brothers were all utterly silent as he went, as if he were marching towards his execution or something. 

Once there he knelt on the pillow on the ground, as per tradition. Splinter took up point in his usual seat, folding his hands. After a moment he said, “My son, you should know by now I am very concerned for you.” 

Mikey looked away, barely stopping himself from shaking his head – Splinter would see it as disrespect. 

“I can see how deeply you were hurt,” Splinter went on, and Mikey wanted to snap at him to shut up already. “I know you’re fighting this on your own, but know that I am here for you. I _will_ listen, whatever you wish to say–”

“Are we done?” Mikey interrupted sharply, thinking that for all that Splinter was willing to listen, _he_ wasn’t. He wanted this to end. 

From the stunned look on Splinter’s face, Mikey had just slapped him or something equally disrespectful. None of them had just interrupted Splinter like that – not since they were kids and still learning the rules. Even then, it was usually Raph being the disrespectful one, rebel that he was. 

Mikey and Leo had always listened. Donny had sometimes cut in with questions, but he’d always started with “excuse me”. Put bluntly, Mikey had never just cut in like that before. 

After a moment Splinter shook it off and warned quietly, “You know better than to interrupt, Michelangelo.” 

Averting his gaze, Mikey replied, “Sorry, Sensei…but I don’t want to talk about this. I just wanna go out, y’know?” 

There was a pause, then Splinter said, “Forgiven. You’re hurt, I understand. I simply wanted you to know that I understand how you feel–”

And despite having _just_ been told not to interrupt, that comment made Mikey snap, “Oh, _you_ know how I feel? Great!” 

There was no stun this time, just Splinter rising to his feet with a sharp, “Michelangelo! Have respect!” 

A good son would have obeyed, but hell, this train was already rolling. Mikey stood up too – a blatant show of disrespect, as he hadn’t been dismissed. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, voice hard. “You don’t know ‘how I feel’, you’ve never liked anyone!”

_“Michelangelo!”_

“If you had even the _slightest_ understanding of how I feel, you’d know that this is just coming off as patronizing,” he hissed. “Thanks for the advice, _Dad_ , but you can’t help with this, not even a little.” 

It’d been years since he’d seen Splinter looking this angry, but by now Mikey didn’t care. With a scoff and a tossed gesture, he spun and left, stalking away. Though he didn’t look, he could see his brothers staring at him in shock from the corner of his eye. 

Splinter called after him twice, but Mikey didn’t turn back around. He just absently pulled off his skateboard and started skating through tunnels, leaving his family alone for the time being. 

Right now he just really wanted the solitude. 

* * *

It didn’t take long for Mikey to notice he had a tail. He couldn’t quite tell who it was, but that was mostly because he didn’t care enough to check. Someone was with him, if at a distance, and it was bizarrely helpful, knowing one of his brothers was there. If he needed anything, if he called out for them, they’d be here in a second. 

It was comforting. 

For a long time he just skated along, trying to find the pleasure in this act again. It didn’t happen, but then, he wasn’t surprised by that. Thanks to that lesson he’d given Lisa on his board, he couldn’t help thinking of her while messing with it. 

Remembering how many times she’d tripped and ended up in his arms drew a strained smile out of him, loving the memory while hating the pain it caused him. 

He sighed. He needed to stop thinking about her, that was all…but it was _so hard!_ Everything about Lisa had appealed to him, bar none. She had such beautiful blue eyes, lovely lips, adorable hair, the cutest dimples, the most enticing scent… 

Finding another girl even remotely as attractive would be both a miracle and a curse, he thought. Because, honestly, if he couldn’t make it with a girl who was perfect for him in every way, what the hell chance did he have with a girl who _wasn’t?_ If Lisa could reject him, then so could every other girl alive. 

Realizing where his thoughts were going, Mikey scowled at himself. _No, idiot, don’t think about that,_ he chided himself. _You came out here to forget, not to depress yourself._

Eventually he climbed out of the sewers and up to the rooftops, deciding he might as well run a patrol. It was helpfully distracting – forcing himself to focus and listen, alert for crimes, eased the strain on his heart. And though he wasn’t very lucky in finding anything to disrupt, he _did_ manage to stop an assault against a homeless man in an alleyway. 

It was all too easy. Mikey just surprised the criminal and got him stuck in a headlock until he passed out. He helped the injured victim to a comfortable place to sit, making sure he was alright, before leaving. 

By now a good portion of officers in the city were aware of Mikey and his brothers, so he found an officer he recognized, whistled for attention, and lead the officer to the knocked out criminal. It was a good deed; Mikey felt good for having helped. 

A routine developed following that night. For the most part he just refused to talk further about Lisa – honestly, he found it pointless; everything had already been established and worked out, all he had left to do was heal – with the only exception being when Jocelyn informed him she’d spoken to Lisa in person. 

Lisa had shown a great deal of regret and a desire to meet up and talk to him, but Mikey refused. Seeing her was just going to open up the wound all over again. He didn’t want her back in his life – not after the way things had ended. He’s just end up pining after her all the time, constantly in pain, and he’d really rather not deal with that. 

His usual energy was slowly returning. A few times his brothers had even gotten a smile out of him. So, yes, he _was_ healing, if in small increments. He was learning how to keep Lisa out of his head, too, which was helpful when he had to focus. He also apologized to his father for getting so short with him, and Splinter had just nodded and forgiven him. 

Honestly, that made Mikey feel worse. He should’ve been punished somehow for the way he’d behaved. The fact that he hadn’t been just went to show how worried Splinter was. 

He still made sure to cook whenever pizza wasn’t on the menu. Jocelyn had been right about his cooking talent; all he’d had to do was discover it and he’d done amazing things since. Sometimes she helped, but it was made obvious very quickly that he’d learned everything he could from her. Soon _he_ was the teacher, working time and temperature into his recipes in a way Jo had never done. 

He didn’t quite enjoy it the way he once had, but at least the food didn’t seem to be suffering much from his distractions. His family had even started piling on the compliments in order to help him snap out of his funk. 

Mikey appreciated that. 

When he went aboveground, Mikey was always aware that someone was with him, and he was starting to notice a pattern to it. His brothers were taking turns keeping an eye on him, and after a little while he stopped keeping them at a distance. Within a week of this repetition he was traveling with his brother at his side instead, working together instead of solo. 

It was helpful – right up until he caught a particular scent in the air. 

Citrus. 

Oh, god, Lisa was somewhere nearby. 

It’d been a mere ten days, and he was actually kind of surprised he hadn’t caught her scent before now. As much as he wanted to turn and go in the opposite direction, though, he couldn’t resist following it, wondering how Lisa was doing. Was she as torn up as he was? Jocelyn hadn’t mentioned that part… 

He found Lisa at a back entrance to a club, leaning against a wall, listening to an iPod. She was gently bobbing her head, iPod in hand, looking at it. After a few minutes of this – yes, Mikey had sat there the whole time – the back door opened and a worker gestured her inside. She picked up a bag by her feet, slung it over her shoulder, and strode in. 

Tonight Donny was with him, and once she disappeared, Donny asked, “How’re you feeling?” 

Honestly, Mikey couldn’t tell. Seeing Lisa had tugged at that healing wound of his, but he also…felt a little better. It was good to see that she seemed okay, that she was continuing with her life. She’d mentioned that she did a lot of freelance work as a DJ, and it seemed tonight she was working at this particular club. 

He kind of wanted to hang out here until she came back, just to get another glimpse of her. But that was stupid and just begging for disaster, so he made himself back off. 

It seemed fate was against him, because that one tiny moment seemed to have keyed up his senses. Now he kept smelling her everywhere, and while he usually forced himself to leave her be, sometimes he followed. She was so commonly at clubs, but he also found her going into various music stores and coming back with job applications as she stuffed them into her bag. 

Job hunting. That left Mikey a little confused. She was a fresh graduate; shouldn’t she be going to college? But then, was there such a thing as DJ college? Unlikely. 

God, he felt like such a stalker. But it wasn’t his fault he kept finding her – her scent was so _strong_ , so much clearer and more noticeable than most. And besides, he wasn’t stalking – he was just making sure she was safe. If anything happened to her while he was right there and capable of stopping it, he’d never forgive himself. 

One thing he noticed very pointedly? She was almost always alone. No boyfriend – no friends in general. The one time he saw her with a guy, she’d clearly been calling him “bro”. She had an older brother, she’d told Mikey. That must be him. 

A part of Mikey wished he could stop this pining, just let go of his feelings. It always left him aching, seeing her from a distance. It got especially bad when he climbed into bed, his mind slowing down and idly replaying the events of the day. Recalling her, then, always hurt. He couldn’t help thinking how, right then, Raph and Jo were probably sharing a bed…and here Mikey was, alone and cold. 

He wondered if Lisa felt the same way. 

He didn’t cry again, at least. He’d gotten out the conflicting emotions that day with Jo, but that just meant he was now stuck in Limbo again. It was hurting less with time, thinking about Lisa, so he had that in his favor. 

But sometimes his mind seized on the kisses they’d shared, the way she’d felt and tasted, the sounds she’d made…and he realized his memory hadn’t faded the least. Usually those thoughts just made the ache worse, but sometimes…sometimes thinking about it _helped_. Sometimes it pulled a little smile out of him, easing whatever pain he’d been feeling. 

It was so strange, like Lisa was both his angel and devil. She’d hurt him, but she also fixed his aches. Sometimes he felt stupid for still letting her influence him, but he tried to remind himself that he _was_ getting over her. It wouldn’t take much longer, he was sure. 

Then he could finally start ignoring her scent whenever he caught it in the air, finally let her get along with her life without him there, watching from the rooftops. 

…But, of course, he just wasn’t that lucky.


	5. Risk And Reward

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Another day, another couple hundred dollars. Lisa checked her pay before leaving the building, nodding to herself as it came out to three hundred, as agreed. Not bad for a single night of tunes, especially considering the DJ booth she’d been using was different from her usual style. She wasn’t used to turntables, as she was primarily a CDJ type. 

Usually she loaded up some mixes via her computer and brought them over, creating mixes up to an hour long – two, if the club manager asked for it. Using a turntable was fun, though. Retro. 

Now, as a pair of employees walked her out, they asked her about her mixes and if she’d be coming back. For a little while they stood outside and chatted, and she agreed that she’d like to come back, provided Chip – the manager – wanted another show from her. 

Then one of the men – Jason? – gave her the side-eye, a look Lisa learned to avoid during her high school years. She made a quick excuse and started off, but her hand was caught, halting her. 

“What was your name?” Jason asked. “Lisa…Samson?” 

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” she demanded, feeling concerned. At least the other guy, Chris, just looked confused. 

“Herbert H. Lehman High?” Jason checked. 

Oh, god, he hadn’t attended, had he? The last thing she needed right now was to have her past come back to bite her. 

“No, I never attended that school,” she denied, “now if you’ll excuse me…”

He stepped in front of her, blocking her way before she could make her escape. He was smiling, pleased with himself, as he said, “Yeah, it’s you…Big Lisa, right? Those dimples are hard to forget,” he told her. 

_Fuck._

“Look, you have the wrong girl,” she told him, trying (and failing) to keep a measure of panic out of her voice. “Now I gotta get home, my brother’s expecting me.” 

She tried to sidestep him, but he caught her by the arm and pulled her back. 

“Hang on, hang on, don’t freak out,” Jason was saying. 

Chris whapped him on the arm. “Dude, what’re you doing?” She felt a sudden wash of relief, thinking she had a way out of this. 

As Lisa tried to pull herself free, her panic steadily growing, Jason gestured her, telling Chris, “This is _Big Lisa_. Remember? I told you about her,” he said, making an obscene grabbing gesture at his own chest. 

Chris got a look of realization, then looked at Lisa, and she felt her last shred of hope dying. No – he wasn’t going to help her now. Whatever he’d heard from Jason had seduced him. 

She had to get out of this herself. 

To their credit, both of the men were trying to keep her calm. So she tried to work with that, tried to be reasonable. 

“I told you I’m not ‘Big Lisa’, now let me go already,” she snapped, still wrenching on her arm, but _damn_ Jason had a good grip. 

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” he said, hauling her back whether she liked it or not. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, relax.” 

So he said, but when he let her go at last, she was boxed in. Back against a wall with two guys who were taller than her mere inches away…yeah, really relaxing. This was every woman’s worst nightmare, and Lisa had always been too timid, her confidence too weak, to fight back in situations like this. 

“Look,” Chris started, “just tell us, honest. You’re Big Lisa aren’t you?”

She looked away, silent, arms across her chest, holding herself. Put bluntly, she was terrified. 

“This is totally her,” Jason told Chris. “Dunno what she’s wearing under that coat, but trust me, she’s _huge_.” 

God, she hated those comments. 

And she hated these _guys_. 

“Alright, I believe you,” Chris said. Then, to Lisa, he pulled her chin up; she wrenched her head away from his touch. “Chill. Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal,” he began with a smirk that he probably thought was attractive. “Come with us, we’ll give you a _great_ time. Take care of you like a lady deserves.” 

“No,” she tried to snap; the word came out shaky and scared. 

Jason slapped Chris on the back of the head. “Dude, you scared her,” he chided. 

_No,_ she thought, _you both did_. Why wouldn’t they just let her go already? She obviously didn’t want this. Were they just that bad at reading women? 

As Chris gestured wide in a shrug, Jason began, “Look, I’ll apologize for him. That was crude. How about we just go out for drinks? No pressure, I promise.” 

His gaze said the opposite, like the moment she ordered a drink with them he was going to spike it. 

“So you can slip me the date rape drug? _Fuck_ you,” she hissed. 

At once, she realized that had been a mistake. Jason and Chris both grew more serious, expressions hardening. 

“That was _very_ rude,” Jason told her. 

“Here I thought we were decent guys, just making deals,” Chris added. 

“I think you ought to apologize,” Jason intoned. 

Lisa didn’t have a great deal of courage, but she mustered up enough to bite out, “Says the asshole who physically stopped me from leaving.” 

His hand shot out, and though she recoiled, she couldn’t quite avoid it. Pain exploded in her cheek in time with a sharp _slap_ , and she collapsed to her knees, holding her face and shaking. Oh, god, oh, shit, oh _fuck_ , she’d done it now… 

Figuring she had the one chance left to her, she suddenly jumped up and sprinted past Chris, knocking him aside, both men yelling at her as she did so. This path led her deeper into the alley, but she didn’t care about that right now. 

She barely made a dozen rapid steps before banging her knee against a trash can and tripping over with a yelp. Absolutely sure that this was it, the moment she got raped and possibly murdered in a back alley, she curled up tight and heard herself let out a terrified sob. 

It took several moments of silence for her to realize nothing was happening. And so, moving cautiously, she peeked out from her ball position to look back. 

Jason and Chris were on the ground, blood dripping from Jason’s mouth. What the _hell?_ At first as she rose back to her feet –wincing as her injured knee screamed in place – she was totally baffled as to what had happened. It looked like the guys had gotten the snot beat out of them, but she’d never heard a sound – 

….almost as if a _ninja_ had done it. 

Suddenly excited, she lifted her eyes from the ground to the rooftops around her. It took a mere moment of scanning before she noticed a face looking down at her. 

It was a dark night, but she was certain that was Mikey. The curve of his head, the brightly-colored mask, the wide cheeks…his face was partly hidden against the edge of the roof, but that _had_ to be him. 

“Mikey?” she ventured. 

God, she’d missed him. She’d tried so hard to contact him again, first with her text and then through Jocelyn, but he’d never responded. Seeing him now reawakened the ache in her chest, feeling so bad for having turned him down. It’d been about six weeks, now, but she was _still_ pining for him. 

She never should have rejected him. 

“Can…can we talk?” she asked when he said nothing. 

There was a moment of silence, then he withdrew. For a second she thought he was going to jump down, but as seconds ticked by she realized he was leaving, instead. 

Oh, hell, no. 

Guessing which way he’d have gone, she took off in a run, ignoring the pain in her knee as she wound through the alleys, gaze constantly going between her route and the rooftops. 

Then she saw him, jumping the bridge between two buildings. 

“Mikey!!” she yelled. 

He stopped, pivoted to see her, and she waved her arm for attention. It was actually kind of cool, seeing him against the backdrop of the night sky like that. It was…dramatic. 

She thought he was so damn cool, really, and she regretted never having said it aloud. If she could catch up to him, she thought, then she could finally tell him. At the very least, he deserved to know she thought he was bad ass. 

Especially now, after seeing how easily he’d knocked out those pervs – without her ever noticing! 

But Mikey only stopped for a second before tearing off into a run again, and she tried to make her legs work harder to keep up. It was exhausting work, trying to keep up with him, eventually making her feel like her lungs were on fire and every inch of her was achy and hot. 

Despite the difficulty of this run, though, she kept at it. Mikey might not want to see her or talk to her, but he was clearly underestimating her determination right then. 

She _would_ catch up somehow. She had to – she had so much to apologize for, so much to explain. He could give her that much, right? 

Then she rounded a corner and found herself at a dead end, a chainlink fence ahead of her that was _way_ too tall for her to climb. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to catch up if she turned around, she did a quick scan, looking for a way up – 

A fire escape! She hauled herself up onto a pile of wooden pallets, then took a leap at the hanging ladder, successfully yanking it loose. Then, _really_ feeling exhausted, she started climbing. Lucky for her she did so much physical activity, otherwise she would’ve passed out halfway through this run. 

When she reached the top of the roof, panting for breath, she looked around for where Mikey had gone. This area was full of three-to-four story buildings, everything about the same height, but she wasn’t seeing him. 

Shit. She’d lost him? As she looked around, spirits plummeting, still breathing harsh from her run, she glanced down at her feet, ashamed. This was her damn fault. 

Jo was right to be pissed with her; Lisa had royally messed this up. As her heart finally started to calm its frantic beat, she sniffed, tears starting to brim. 

_Damn it._ All she’d wanted was to try and fix this, to maybe be given another chance. To start over…to crush her damn fears and take the only chance worth taking. 

Looked like it wasn’t happening now. 

Then a voice cut through her self-hatred and she spun, startled but pleased to find Mikey was here after all. 

“Your breathing’s all wrong, that’s why you’re so tired,” he told her. 

He sounded different, she noticed immediately. Like there was barely a spark of life left in him, when before he was so boisterous, so loud and lively…

 _My fault_ , she thought again. 

But she was so happy to see him she took an impulsive step forward; he took a step back, telling her in one move that he was still too damaged to let her close – physically or otherwise, she guessed. 

Dejected, she deflated, moving back to her spot. “…Thanks,” she murmured, looking away. God, seeing him so close rekindled the guilt in her, settling a heavy weight on her shoulders. 

After a moment she ventured, “And…thanks. For knocking out those guys. I thought I was dead for sure,” she said on a strangled laugh. Mustering up some courage, she glanced his way again. 

He didn’t respond, just gazed at her with a conflicted, almost blank expression. In a way, that almost gave her some hope – if he was still torn up after all this time, like she was, then maybe…

…maybe he still liked her. 

* * *

This was…not something Mikey had ever thought would happen. He’d just noticed Lisa’s scent again, followed it, and found her cornered against a wall by two idiots. Seeing her get slapped had triggered a rage in him unlike anything he’d felt before, and the moment she’d sprinted away, seeing those assholes ready to give chase…

He hadn’t thought, hadn’t planned. He’d just jumped. Landing on the one she’d knocked over, hearing bones snap under him, had been an incredibly fulfilling moment for Mikey – almost as much so as slamming his fist into the other guy’s face, feeling teeth grinding under his knuckles. 

As pathetic as they were, those two idiots were KO’d in one hit each. It was then, as he realized he was on the ground, that Mikey felt a measure of fear. God, if Lisa saw him now… 

Lucky for him, then, that she’d hurt her knee and tripped. It gave him time to rebound off the walls until he made it back up to the rooftop. 

He just…hadn’t been able to leave right away. A part of him was weirdly desperate to have Lisa recognize what had happened, to see what her reaction would be as it dawned on her that Mikey was still looking out for her. 

Her asking him to talk hadn’t been expected. He thought she didn’t like him – or, at least, didn’t tolerate his appearance. And he couldn’t talk to her. He really couldn’t; it would just end with his heart in tatters all over again. 

He’d left, running off, only to get the surprise of his life: she was _following him_. On foot. A human! 

Unable to quite help himself, he’d intentionally led her on a chase then, checking back every so often to see if she was still keeping up. He wanted to know just how determined she was to get this talk, and he got it when he led her to a dead end – only to have her climb up the fire escape to get up here with him. 

By then he’d already hopped off and came around the building from the ground, climbing up silently to watch her for a few moments. It was the look on her face that convinced him to show himself: a mixture of regret and heartache. Knowing she felt like crap – like he did – made him feel worse about the way things had ended. 

God, he shouldn’t have kissed her. And, he realized now, he’d never apologized for that. He should get that out of the way. 

Now, as she gave him this look of mingled fear and hope, he averted his gaze. He had a hard enough time dealing with his own feelings; he couldn’t handle hers, too. 

“You’re welcome,” he answered absently. 

An awkward silence descended. Then, in unison, they both blurted out apologies. 

“I’m sorry for–”

“I’m sorry I–”

They both went silent again, and then Lisa gave a weak laugh. She gestured him. “Go ahead,” she offered. 

Hesitant, he tried again, “I’m sorry for kissing you without asking.” 

That only seemed to make her pain worse, her eyes filling. “That’s…you’re sorry for _that?”_

Well…yeah. He was confused how she didn’t seem to think of it as an invasion. “Of course I am,” he said. “Guy’s supposed to ask, right?” 

She gave him a watery smile. “I guess so. I don’t have a lot of experience, there…” 

When Lisa trailed off, another awkward silence stretched out between them. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t speak, idly shuffling a foot back and forth on the ground. 

“…I’m sorry I hurt you,” she whispered. 

That made him wince. “It’s not your fault,” he told her, looking away. “You had every right to shoot me down.” 

“No, but…” she started, then hesitated. “…I lied, Mikey. I don’t have a boyfriend–”

“I know,” he interrupted, not wanting to hear more of this. 

Confused, she ventured, “You do? How?” 

“Jo told me.”

Her expression said ‘oh’. Then, nodding, she offered weakly, “Can you forgive me?”

…What the _hell?_ He was the one who’d forced her to lie like she had, and _she_ was asking forgiveness? 

She was god damn perfect… 

But, to be honest, he didn’t know if he could forgive her. Finding out she’d lied to him about her boyfriend had cut him – _deep_. For days after he’d found himself thinking that the only reason she had to spew that lie was because she couldn’t handle him being a turtle. 

It was devastating to his self-esteem. 

But maybe her reasons were different. That shred of hope had him answering, “Maybe…depends on why you lied.” 

Immediately she looked scared, which only served to make Mikey even more suspicious. What was going on in her head? When she didn’t answer, he glanced around, getting a good mental map of this roof. He found a series of external air conditioning tunnels, so he gestured them. 

“Come on, sit down,” he offered. If they were going to talk this out, then he’d at least make sure she was comfortable first. 

Nodding, Lisa went ahead and picked one, touching it with her hand first to test the temperature. Then, taking a seat, she crossed her ankles and swung her legs. 

Mikey sat – well, not near her, but close enough for a conversation. 

He admitted, “I thought you liked me.”

“I do,” she replied quickly, giving him a sharp look. 

The way she’d say that – _I do,_ not _I did_ – made his heart do a little, excited flip. Still, he pushed that down, refusing to let himself hope. 

“Then why’d you lie to me?” he demanded. 

She gazed away, all but oozing guilt. Her head sunk down, her shoulders hiking up; if she were a turtle, he’d say she was in her shell right then. 

After a moment of continuing silence, he ventured, “If you don’t wanna say, that’s fine, but I’m gonna leave.” 

She shook her head. “No, I–” pausing, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Mikey…this is…hard,” she confessed. 

And damn it, the way she said his name _still_ made his heart thud. Even now, her words laced in pain, he liked the sound of it. 

He was _so_ pathetically smitten. Six weeks hadn’t dulled how much he wanted her in the slightest, it seemed – it’d just helped him forget how much she’d hurt him. With that fading he was practically back where he’d started. 

Hesitant, she began, “I’ve just…never talked about this before. But, um…I lied…cause I was scared,” she admitted, looking down at her Converse high-tops. 

Self-esteem plummeting, he replied quietly, “Scared of me, cause I’m a mutant?” 

“No,” she shot back sharply – then, wincing, she corrected, “W-well, kinda. It…I was thinking about that too, but that’s not…why.” 

Giving her a sideways look, he asked, “Then why?” He was ready to demand answers at this point, to hell with her feelings on the matter. She’d forced this conversation; the least she could do was answer his questions. 

Looking away, she checked, “Did you, um…did you hear what those guys were saying to me?” 

“No,” he answered, wondering how that was relevant. 

That was, apparently, not what she’d wanted. Flinching, she confessed, “W-well, let’s just say I had a shitty time in Junior and High school. Got teased and bullied a lot. Every guy I liked or dated turned out to be a creep…” 

Mikey’s heart gave a new kind of ache – a compassionate one, feeling for how terrible that must have been for her. She sounded so reluctant, so broken up…

Her teen years had clearly been torturous. 

“Lisa…” he started, wanting to offer her comfort but unable to move any closer to her. Right now she represented the thing that had hurt him more than anything else in the world; his heart wouldn’t let him get that close to her again. The chance that she would break him a second time – regardless of how low that chance was – was enough to deter him. 

His heart couldn’t take being shattered _twice_. 

She gave her eyes a quick wipe with her fingers, sniffed hard, then went on, “S-so, yeah, pattern recognition. I didn’t wanna get hurt again. When you kissed me…I liked it,” she admitted quietly. “But…then I thought…’He can break you.’ And that scared the hell out of me, because it’s true,” she told him with a look. 

“I’ve never liked a boy as much as I like you,” she said, and it made his heart start to thud. “And I was thinking…you know…if all the guys I’ve ever liked have turned into assholes, then maybe I shouldn’t let that happen. I told myself I’d rather squash my crush and just be friends with you…than risk you turning around and hurting me. Like…like I’d rather have you as a friend for life than a boyfriend for a day.” 

Holy. Fuck. 

Mikey hadn’t expected this, not in the least. She’d turned him down out of a fear of relationships, not a fear of _him_. But as much as this sent his heart racing with nerves, it also made him wonder about that bullying she’d mentioned. What the hell had she suffered to have developed such a fear? 

A little stunned, he scooted a little closer, faced her, and brought up his legs to sit cross-legged. Trying to keep focused – not an easy task with these revelations going around in his head – he asked, “Okay, Lisa, so…you were just scared of being hurt?”

She nodded. 

“…What happened to make you so scared of that?” he ventured carefully, holding her gaze. 

It took a moment, then she looked away, saying, “I can’t…I’m not ready to talk about that yet, okay?” 

He gave a slow nod. “Okay. But eventually I wanna know,” he told her. 

Giving sharp, rapid nods, Lisa replied quickly, “Yeah, okay. Eventually. I can do that.” 

Her response pulled a smile out of him – a smile! Then, sobering, he offered, hesitant, “So, uh…what now?” 

Equally uncertain, she said, “Um…dunno. It depends on whether or not you forgive me.” The look she gave him then, so unsure, so hopeful…

It slayed him. 

Clearing his throat, he answered, “Yeah, Lisa…I forgive you. But…do you forgive _me?”_ he checked, wincing a little. 

Surprised, she shook her head. “I don’t…have anything to forgive you for,” she argued. 

He sighed, though her response had him smiling again. “Just say, ‘Yeah, Mikey’,” he prompted. 

That hope in her eyes was growing and she blurted easily, “Yeah, Mikey. No problem.” 

God, this was almost funny, now that they’d straightened everything out. All this, over a fear, a lie, and a misunderstanding? And he realized, as he smiled at her and she smiled back, that all his previous pain was _gone_. No hint of it remained, as if it had simply never existed. 

“…Mikey?” she began then, wincing. 

“Yeah?” 

Hesitant, she ventured, “Can we start over?” 

God, _yes_. He replied, trying for humor, “That depends, is this imaginary boyfriend of yours going to make another appearance?” 

She chuckled. “No…but if things go right, my _real_ boyfriend might,” she offered. 

His heart did a literal flip. And it seemed like all his cumulative missing energy came rushing back at once – six weeks’ worth of enthusiasm crashing into him in a second’s time. He wanted to hoot and cheer, scream at the top of his lungs that everything had finally righted itself. 

Luckily his self control was still in place, keeping his actions steady. He got up, stepped closer to Lisa, offered her a hand. When she took it, he pulled her right against him and ducked his head as his arms circled her back. 

This was the final test, he thought – whether or not she’d let him kiss her. But she did him one better, standing on her toes and looping her arms around his neck to kiss _him_. 

Right then, his mental voice was nothing more than a keyboard smash, freaking out over what was happening now. But for all of his excitement at that moment, he didn’t kiss her for long – maybe out of fear that she might repeat her rejection if he kept it up too much. Instead, he broke the kiss with a strangled whine, dropping his head to her shoulder. 

Holding him tight, she murmured, “I’m so sorry about what happened…”

“Forget it,” he told her. “We started over, remember?” He gave a whistle, then added, “Never happened. Deleted from memory.” 

She giggled. “You’re such a goof,” she commented. 

_And you love it,_ he thought, grinning. Then, a particular thought in mind, he asked, “Hey, Lisa?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can you say it?”

Confused, she checked, “Say what?”

“…That you’re my girlfriend,” he admitted, feeling giddy as hell. 

And she _sounded_ giddy as hell as she replied, “Y-yeah, Mikey…I’m your girlfriend. And you’re my boyfriend, right?” 

He could have squealed. “Yeah…I’m your boyfriend.” And that pleased the living hell out of him. It was the ultimate feeling, leaving him so euphoric it was a wonder that he wasn’t floating in the air right now. 

Unable to withhold some measure of celebration, he yanked Lisa up against him, arms under her legs, holding her aloft and grinning up at her. She looked a little stunned, but she was smiling at him, her dimples on display. 

“You’re so cute,” he told her. 

She covered her face, grinning wide. 

God, that was even _cuter_. Reminded that he’d thought, all those weeks ago, that she was going to kill him and they weren’t even together, he came to conclusion that, as his girlfriend….she was _totally_ going to kill him. 

He was okay with that.


	6. All Better

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Mikey stayed out a long time with Lisa that night, then escorted her home. A weird fear had kept up the entire time – not that it surprised him – but he left her with a kiss and a promise to have Donnie replace his phone (since he’d had to admit he’d broken his last one).

She’d looked so _sad_ when he said that, too, it made him feel bad. Plus it showed him how genuine her feelings were – she was sad he’d had a moment of rage and threw his phone? _Swoon_ – and successfully made him all the happier.

“And don’t worry,” he added as she climbed up the sewer ladder. “I’ll tell Jo you can be friends again.”

Lisa paused to laugh, hugging the ladder. “Thanks, Mikey,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t like how strained things had become with her, either.”

Since it was on level with him, he gave her calf a pat. “I’m on it,” he promised.

She stayed there for another moment, looking down on him with this cute little smile on her face, before shaking her head. “Call me,” she murmured.

As if anyone could _stop_ him.

Once she was up above the street, he climbed up to pull the manhole cover back into place – and paused to watch her for a moment. He noted which building she headed towards, made sure to memorize the apartment building’s name. It was wide, he saw, with at least thirty windows on one side, but not very tall – he counted four stories.

He lingered longer than he probably should have, but it occurred to him now that he hadn’t asked which apartment was hers. So he stayed and watched, checking for any lights that flipped on in any of the windows.

Three lit up while he waited, leaving him unsure which was hers. Oh well, he could ask her about it later. Then, dropping back down from the ladder, reality came crashing into him.

He’d spent about two whole hours with Lisa before getting her home, and in that time he’d been coasting along in this weird emotional mix: a little scared, _really_ happy, constantly giddy, yet bizarrely in control of himself. For all that he’d wanted to just crush Lisa against him, nuzzle her and kiss her, he’d settled for keeping a hand on her the whole time instead – usually on _her_ hand.

Now, though? _Now_ his spirits were skyrocketing again, and as he tore off down the tunnel, actually _enjoying_ skateboarding for the first time in over a month, he couldn’t help jubilant cheering.

 _Lisa_ was his _girlfriend!_ She’d confirmed it! They’d talked it out, apologies all around, she’d confessed her fears to him, and they’d started over – but as _boyfriend_ and _girlfriend!!_

He couldn’t _wait_ to brag to – er, inform his brothers. They were going to be so _thrilled_ , he thought – maybe not that he’d taken a second leap with Lisa, but definitely that he’d gotten over his funk. Depression? Haha, what was _that?_ Mikey had never felt better!

When he made it back home he was grinning, and he kicked off his board before putting it back in its holster. His brothers _immediately_ noticed. And Mikey was feeling just playful enough to mess with them, hopping over to the fridge to pop open a can of Orange Crush and drain it.

Leo was the first to notice. He nudged Raph, who was sitting beside him on the couch; they both waved and hissed at Donnie until all three of them were aware of Mikey’s drastically improved mood.

By the time the youngest had finished his drink, crushed the can and tossed it into the recyclables, his brothers had already gathered to stare at him. Giving them a nonchalant shrug, Mikey asked, “What? Guy can’t get better suddenly and rapidly in the span of a few hours?”

Leonardo was the first to snap out of it, Donnie and Raph still locked in stun. The eldest demanded – cautiously, “Mikey, what happened?”

Mikey couldn’t hold back a grin any longer. “Ran into Lisa,” he started, intentionally making his brothers work for this information.

They shared a look; Raph ventured, “…And then?”

“And…a couple douchebags were messin’ with her, so I knocked ‘em out,” Mikey went on.

They looked so _impatient_. It was hilarious for the fun-loving turtle.

“Okay,” Donnie intoned, thinking hard. “Then…?”

Shrugging, playing up the unimportance of this story, Mikey said, “Then she asked to talk to me.” The hardest part was not grinning in amusement right then.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Leo sighed, “just tell us, Mikey.”

_Done._

Too excited to hold back, he rushed out, “So, she asked to talk to me but I didn’t wanna talk so I started running off, but she was _chasing_ me, right? So I messed with her for a while, just to see how far she was gonna go, and after a while she climbed up a fire escape to get on the roof with me, so I was like okay, she really wants to talk, I might as well, right?”

His brothers kept glancing between one another as he spoke, surprise and stun the only emotions on their faces – right until now, when concern became dominant on all three.

Ignoring that, Mikey went on with wide gestures, “So we talked and we both apologized, and Lisa said she was sorry for lying and said she only turned me down cause she was scared that _I_ was gonna hurt _her_ and she was so sorry for everything, and she said she really liked me and wanted to start over and I wanted it too so I was like, hell yeah!”

Paraphrased story finished, he threw his arms in the air, declaring, “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend! She confirmed it and everything!!”

Still wavering between stun and worry, his brothers shared another series of looks. Raphael was the first to react, giving a little, pleased smirk and nodding. Donnie was second, offering a little smile.

It took a moment for Leo to get on board – not that Mikey was surprised by that. Leo had tried no fewer than six times to talk to Mikey about Lisa, only to get rebuffed every time. He was probably still worried. But by now they’d established that there was no stopping Leo’s suspicious nature, especially regarding girls, so Mikey accepted that, no problem.

Leo could waste all the energy he liked in recon runs and paranoia; Mikey didn’t care. Lisa was perfect; there was zero chance Leo was going to dig up any dirt on her.

“So, Donnie,” Mikey began, finally moving from his place by the fridge to join the gathering at the bottom of the stairs. “Definitely gonna need a replacement phone now.”

Sharp nod from the genius. “I had one waiting for weeks, I can get it set up in less than an hour.”

“Awesome,” Mikey approved, grinning. “Thanks, bro.”

Smiling back, Donnie said, “Anything, anytime, little brother.”

As Donnie strode off to get to work – never one to linger when there was work to be done – Leo and Raph shared another look; Raph shrugged. Then, reaching out, Raph rubbed Mikey’s head affectionately.

“Congrats, baby bro,” Raphael teased.

Mikey scoffed, batting his brother’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah, don’t patronize me.”

Raph snorted. “Surprised you know what ‘patronize’ means,” he joked.

“Surprised _you_ do,” Mikey returned.

Chuckling, Raph replied, “Touché.”

Significantly more serious than his brothers, Leo ventured, “Mikey…you’re sure about this?” He was visibly concerned, undoubtedly worried what would happen if Mikey got even _more_ invested, only to end up getting his heart broken again.

Nodding, Mikey told him, “I’m sure. Seriously, the only reason Lisa turned me down was cause she was afraid of committing to a relationship. She said every time she’s tried dating before, the guys all turned out to be total creeps. She was just scared of it happening again. She said…” he started, then paused, smiling as he recalled the way she’d explained herself.

“…She said she’d rather have me as a friend for life than a boyfriend for just a day,” he commented quietly. “That’s how much she likes me.” And, god, saying that aloud made him so _giddy_ , like he might explode into a shower of fireworks any second.

After a moment of pause, Leo ventured quietly, “…Wow. Okay.”

Raph was deep in thought at the moment, but he nodded with a murmured, “Jocelyn was right, I guess.” Then, snapping, he said, “Right, I should tell her.”

Technically Jocelyn had already moved in – after a _very_ long talk between the brothers about the issue, of course, as they all had concerns about this – but she was now officially a college student, in the middle of her 5-week summer course at SAB, the School of American Ballet, _and_ had a part-time job. She was never here during the day and usually slept while the brothers were up, was probably in bed even now.

“She asleep?” Mikey asked. When Raph nodded, he suggested, “Yeah, don’t bother waking her up for that.”

Raph snorted. “As if I even _could_ wake her up, she sleeps like a brick.”

That made Mikey chuckle – then wonder how Lisa slept. Was she a light sleeper, a heavy sleeper? Did she toss and turn, act out her dreams, talk in her sleep? God, he couldn’t wait to find out.

Leo had been thinking during that small conversation, and now he said, “Are you planning on meeting her again soon?”

…Actually, no, and Mikey felt stupid for not asking to see her again. Shaking his head, he answered, “Didn’t ask about that. Soon as I get a phone, I will, though.”

Nodding, Leo said, “We should have a meeting with her, all of us.”

Ohh, no. Mikey shook his head, denying, “Uh-uh, you’re just gonna scare her off.”

Raph laughed; Leo lifted his hands in innocence. “I just want to talk to her. And don’t you want to introduce her to us as your official girlfriend?”

Oh. That was a good point. Now warming up to the idea, Mikey nodded, “Okay…yeah, I can do that. But don’t grill her,” he warned Leo.

Another innocent gesture from the eldest. “I just want to see the two of you together, make sure you won’t get hurt again.”

Not wanting to delve into _that_ conversation, Mikey backed off, repeatedly pointing at his own eyes then at Leo in the universal gesture of _I’m watching you_. Apparently Raph thought it was hilarious, because he laughed and shook his head, going back to the couch.

Mikey headed back to the elevated section of the main chamber where his drum set waited. He hopped up the wall instead of taking the stairs, too boisterous to help but bounce around every chance he got. And though he intended to sit down and start messing with the drums, he ended up going to the stereo instead.

He just _really_ felt like dancing.

He was a lot more picky than usual, though, his heart so overwhelmed with joy that he kept flipping through stations to find happy, lovey songs. At this point he didn’t even care what genre or era it was; anything talking explicitly about happy couples was enough. Case in point…

[](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mT_1Mk4Lm-8) _I’ve been waiting all day to wrap my hands  
Around your waist and kiss your face  
Wouldn’t trade this feeling for nothing  
_ _Not even for a minute_

He was so into the music, grinning and thinking wonderful things about Lisa, that he totally missed when Donnie started calling for him. As soon as he snapped out of it, though, the stereo was off and he was jumping down to the ground floor. His phone was ready!

Sure enough, Donnie offered it with an amused smile. When Mikey went to grab it, though, Donnie lifted it up, out of reach. “First,” the elder brother said, “you promise to take better care of this one. Agreed?”

Feeling bad for having broken his last phone, Mikey nodded, agreeing easily, “Yep, no throwing it or using it as a coaster–”

“You used the last one as a coaster?!” Donnie demanded, shocked.

Wincing, Mikey offered meekly, “…No?”

Annoyed, Donnie let him have the phone. “Yeah, no using it as a coaster. Or a doorstop. Or a projectile.”

“Well, gee, just take away _all_ my fun,” Mikey mock-complained.

He really had used it as a doorstop, though – not that he was going to admit that.

Rolling his eyes, Donnie strode off with a muttered comment Mikey didn’t catch. Probably for the best, he thought.

Then, jumping right back up so he could go into his room, Mikey unlocked the phone and checked it. He didn’t know how, but all of his apps, pictures and contacts were back, though the phone itself was different. It felt weird in his hand, a little bigger and thicker than the last one.

When he found that his picture of Lisa had survived the transfer, he couldn’t help a pleased smile. For a while he’d hated that picture, but now that everything was better again, he was so glad it hadn’t vanished. That candid shot was so damn cute…

Impulsive as he was, Mikey couldn’t resist kissing his phone screen, as if he were kissing _Lisa_. Then, after setting that photo to be Lisa’s contact image, he called her up. It hadn’t been very long, so he hoped she was still awake.

Maybe he was just being clingy, but he wanted to hear her voice again before the end of the night. At the very least it would give him a chance to confirm that he hadn’t dreamt tonight’s events, that she really _was_ his girlfriend.

As the cell rang, he found himself holding his breath, waiting…

* * *

Lisa was in the midst of a post-shower celebration when she heard her phone ringing, had just been dancing in her rainbow-speckled towel, and she side-stepped to it. And she was honestly surprised when she saw Mikey’s name displayed on the screen; hadn’t he broken his phone? He’d _said_ so…

Snatching up the phone, she answered it with a cautious, “Yello?”

“Hey, Lisa,” Mikey’s voice said.

It _was_ him! Pleased, she grinned, replying, “Hey, boy. I thought you said you broke your phone?”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed, “but Donnie saved the SIM card.”

Ah. Nodding, she said, “So he just put it in a new phone?”

“Yep. Same number and all my info and everything,” he told her.

“Coooool.”

“Yep,” he repeated, then fell silent.

Unsure what to say, she hesitated to speak, too. What should she say? What did one say to one’s boyfriend over the phone? She’d never had a boyfriend, or at least not a _real_ one. Lacking experience, she suddenly wished she could call Jocelyn and ask _her_ , but she got the feeling Jo would just advise her to flirt.

Lisa was _not_ a flirt.

Luckily Mikey broke the silence, venturing, “So, Lisa…I wanted to ask you…”

Now even _more_ hesitant, worried what he might want, she checked, “Uh, yeah?”

“…I didn’t, uh….this wasn’t a dream, right? You’re really my girlfriend?”

A sweet pulse went through her and she settled a hand over her heart, giving a soft whine. He really didn’t believe this was happening, did he? Not that she could blame him; she was much the same, still in disbelief that she’d actually snagged herself a real boyfriend. She’d never expected to be so lucky.

“Yeah, Mikey, I’m really your girlfriend,” she said, and _god_ that made her grin  huge. She had to sit down on her bed and plop her face into the pillow, as if physically hiding would do anything to curb her giddiness.

She squealed into the pillow anyway, so excited she could barely contain herself. She wanted to kick her legs and rip off her towel to dance in the nude and scream from pure joy.

There was a pause from the other end of the line, and it lasted so long that Lisa ventured, “Um, Mikey? You there?” Did the call drop?

“Y-yeah, I’m here,” he agreed, and his voice sounded strained.

Concerned, she sat up, checking, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, just…”

When he hesitated, she ventured, “…happy?”

His response to that was a sharp, loud, _“Yeah!!”_

She dissolved into giggles, falling back on the bed and rolling left and right, hugging herself and her phone to her chest. Then she heard him saying something and put the phone back at her ear.

“–my bros that we made up and it was great, Raph was happy for me!” he was saying.

He’d told his brothers? She winced a little, giving a weak laugh. “Uh, about that, Mikey…” she started.

He snapped right back to serious, checking, “What’s up, Lisa?”

She bit her lip, hesitant to bring down his high, but admitted, “S-so, the day after the party? Jo called me. It…didn’t go very well, and after a while Raph took the phone and warned me that I’d be lucky if him and your bros never saw me on the street…”

There was another pause, and then Mikey snapped, “That _fucker!”  
_

She gave a startled laugh at that, surprised by his cursing. “Y-yeah, well, I kinda had it coming,” she replied.

“No, you didn’t,” he disagreed, sounding pissed. “That was totally out of line. I’m gonna deck him.”

“Mikey, please, don’t start any fights, okay?” she said, worried. She didn’t want him getting into scraps over what’d happened.

“Hey, _he_ started the fight when he talked to you like that,” Mikey defended. “I’m just answering the challenge.”

“I don’t want you fighting at all!” she insisted sharply. “Look, it’s like you said – deleted, right? We started over, and that includes all the consequences. Right?”

She heard him exhale hard, then agree weakly, “Yeah, yeah…good point. Sorry, Lisa.”

Relieved, she smiled, nodding. “S’alright. I mean I’m kinda happy that you wanna defend me and whatever, but it’s not important anymore. I just wanted you to know that your bros…might not be so happy to see me again.”

“They’ll get over it,” Mikey declared, sounding so certain of himself she couldn’t help but believe him.

But now she was out of stuff to talk about, and it was getting late, anyway. It was almost midnight and she had another round of job hunting to get to tomorrow. Still, she was reluctant to hang up, so she floundered for one more thing to talk about.

“S-so, um, tonight you said my breathing was all wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “If you do it right you’d be able to run, like, twice as long.”

“How do I do that?” she checked, a little dumbfounded. Who would’ve guessed that you could _breathe_ wrong?

“Well, you hafta…uh, I mean, it’s hard to explain,” he tried. “It’s like the way you move your arms and stuff… Look, I could show you sometime,” he finished.

“Oh, yeah, that’d be cool,” she agreed, suddenly realizing this was her excuse to see him again.

“Yeah, so – right!” he said suddenly, and she heard a _snap_ on the line as he spoke. “You wanna meet up again? I’ll let you pick the place,” he teased.

She giggled. “W-well, yeah. I’m thinking that same rooftop would be good, kinda like our lucky place?” she checked.

He gave the cutest little giggle. “I like that,” he agreed, and she could just imagine he was grinning all huge. “When you wanna do this? Tonight?”

Tonight? So eager, she thought, grinning. She was fine with that, though, so she agreed with an enthusiastic, “Tonight, at nine!”

“Hell, yeah!” Mikey agreed, voice dripping with jubilation.

The hardest thing, right then, was _not_ shrieking and cheering. She shoved her face into the pillow again, curled up on the bed and kicking her feet. She had a cool, funny, bad ass boyfriend, the absolute cutest guy she’d ever met, and they had a _date_ for _tonight!  
_

Then, with a teasing tone, he ventured, “Soooo…”

Lifting her face from the pillow, she returned, “Sooo?”

“What’re ya wearing?” he joked.

A freaking _towel_ , she thought, and her face burned with the knowledge. Fighting against an urge to just hang up on him – god, she could _not_ handle this kind of flirting – she shot back, “You, first.”

He chuckled. “Rain boots, an oversized Barbie doll dress, and a sombrero. And my mask, of course. Can’t stay at home without it. Now, you?”

Struggling with herself, Lisa forced herself to answer (with as flirty a tone as she could manage – really she just sounded pathetically quiet), “A towel…”

Silence. She imagined Mikey’s brain had just shut down. And so, feeling way too nervous about what she’d just said, she added quickly, “Good night, baby boy.”

There was a strangled squeak from the other side of the line as she ended the call.

 _I can’t believe I just said that_ , she thought, equally impressed and horrified with herself. That was a flirt – she’d _flirted!_ Freaking out more than a little, she burrowed her face into the pillow again so she could squeal and shriek to her heart’s content.

God, today had been _amazing_. Aside from that scare with those two creeps, she’d had a great time: her brother, Sam, took her out to his workplace (he was a carpenter) so she got to see all kinds of cool-ass equipment, even got to watch him make a tree-like cut-out for a custom bunk bed; she hung out with a few of her DJ-minded friends, trading a few techniques; the club scene had been great, the crowd loud and responsive, and she’d had a lot of fun with the turntables; and, of course, the highlight of the night…she made up with Mikey.

Even better, he’d agreed to start over with her, and she couldn’t explain how happy that made her. After a slew of failed relationships she was _so_ ready to have one that worked out. And despite her dirt-low self-esteem, she truly believed he liked _her_ and not…her various “assets”. Hell, he didn’t even know about them and he seemed to like her anyway.

It made her think she could really, truly trust him. Yeah, maybe she’d learned to expect pain when it came to boys – and girls, for that matter – but she just knew _Mikey_ wouldn’t hurt her.

He was too sweet, too…pure-hearted. _He couldn’t hurt you if he tried,_ Jo had said. Well, Lisa was inclined to agree. Hell, she’d hurt _him_ and he’d turned around asked for _her_ forgiveness, clearly blaming himself. What the hell kind of boy did that?!

There was a _blip_ from her phone then and she glanced down at it. A text from Mikey! Biting her lips on a pleased squeal – it didn’t work very well – she opened it up and checked it.

[💖💗 can’t wait to see you! 👀 dream of me okay??? 😴 💤 🐢 🧡]

And Lisa _keened_ , trying so hard to keep herself from shrieking that she couldn’t help excited squeaks. He was so freaking _cute!  
_

Her reply was a little more simple:

[of course, but only if you play fair! 🐢 💤 👧 💗 ⏰]

Was it weird to be so giddy you hugged your own pillow while waiting on a text? Was that normal or really really pathetic? Lisa went ahead and assumed it was perfectly normal, bouncing a little in place as she crushed her favorite pillow against her chest.

Because, honestly, if it wasn’t “the norm” then she really was pathetic – but she couldn’t help it! She had her first _real_ boyfriend, and turtle or not, he made her insanely happy.

She was so keyed up that when she got her reply, she jolted from the notification sound, almost dropping her phone.

[as if you could stop me!! 😍 😜 💋 🧡 🧡 🧡]

“Mikeeeeyyyy,” she verbally whined, bouncing in place even worse. That kissy emote reminded her that they’d kissed twice tonight – pittance compared to their hardcore make-out session weeks prior, but sweet enough that she was _still_ feeling his lips even after her shower. And now she realized she was running her fingers over her lips, recalling the feel of his soft skin.

God, if she didn’t know any better, she’d swear she was already in love. But that was way too soon, right? “Love at first sight” wasn’t a thing, and neither was “love at first kiss” for that matter. No, she wasn’t in love, but she was damn well smitten enough to stick around long enough to _fall_ in love.

Unable to think of a reply right then, she set her phone aside, sighed, flopped back on her bed, and grinned at her ceiling. She’d stuck a series of posters above her bed a few years back, and it wasn’t until now that she noticed none of them were of crushes or boys. It all had to do with music or movie posters she’d liked.

She’d _had_ celebrity crushes before, but for some reason she’d never plastered their faces on her walls. Maybe that was for the best; after getting with Mikey she’d have had to tear them down, anyway. To hell with Justin Timberlake and Justin Bieber – shut up; she thought he was cute was all – she had a _way_ better guy now.

He was funny, he was athletic, he was cool, he was fit as _hell_ , and he was lethally adorable.

Michelangelo, a.k.a. Mikey, the mutant ninja turtle…

A part of her was a little scared of what she was getting herself into, but the rest of Lisa was the happiest she’d been in _years_. To hell with caution and fears and worries; none of that could stand against how simply _happy_ she was. Sure, she expected they’d run into problems here and there, but she liked Mikey enough to not let those thoughts bother her.

Anything that came up, they’d get through. She’d put in as much – if not more! – effort as he was willing to expend, himself. She just…really wanted this to work. Not just because she was lonely and aching to be loved, but because…

…because she knew Mikey wanted it just as much. The way he’d acted tonight told her in bright, bold letters that he’d never wanted anything _more_.

So Lisa decided she’d be good, work with him, and for both their sakes she was going to do her damnedest to ensure everything worked out. Granted, she had zero real experience in relationships, let alone in keeping them from breaking, but she’d learn as she went.

Mikey was worth the effort, she thought.


	7. Meet The Fam

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Lisa, impatient and excitable being that she was, made it to that rooftop a whole half hour ahead of time. And because this was kind of a date, she’d brought a few things – haha, a “few”.

She’d brought her usual backpack _and_ stuffed a duffel bag full of shit she thought Mikey might like. Among the items: snacks and drinks, notably Orange Crush (cause he’d mentioned that particular drink only, oh, about seventeen times so far) and gummy treats – worms, bears, sharks and other such shapes accounted for, some sour and some sweet – and various kinds of chips and nuts…and she’d totally overdone it, hadn’t she?

Oh god, what was she _thinking_ , bringing all that crap? Suddenly panicked over what had seemed like a good idea at the time, she snatched up the bag from its place on the ground and spun, looking for a place to hide it.

Hah, hiding it from a ninja? God, she was stupid… 

Still, she couldn’t help it, and eventually she just stuffed it under one of the elevated air conditioning tunnels, hoping Mikey wouldn’t notice. Then, realizing how neurotic she was being right then, she giggled to herself, a hand on her forehead. She was stressing over _nothing_ , she was sure. Mikey was cool; at worst he’d find the duffel bag and its contents amusing.

She thought.

Bah! This was too stressful; she tossed the thoughts aside, then took off her backpack to dig out her headphones and iPod.

Feeling way too taxed by all of this thinking, she defaulted to what she always did to mellow out: she played music and danced to it. In no time her mind was distracted from her worries, instead focusing on all the fun she was going to have when Mikey – her _boyfriend_ – got here.

She could barely wait.

More and more she fell into the spell of the music – which was probably largely because last night she’d started compiling a [**playlist**](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4NQZDHelmIb_Afh4paxkRiDaQZA8ZaX-) specifically for how she felt for Mikey. It wasn’t necessarily all love songs, or even songs in one specific genre; they were just songs that _felt_ like him, songs that brought him to mind regardless of whether or not she understood why.

One by one, as the songs played, she relaxed. Some of the songs got her pumped as hell, though, so she ended up displaying different levels of energy as they went on. Sometimes she just swayed and hugged herself or messed with her hair or spun around a lot; sometimes she busted out _moves_ , including twists, flips and handstands.

It was a ton of fun – right up until she spun around and saw Mikey standing there at the edge of the building, watching her with a lopsided grin.

Lisa _yelped_ , jolting and pitching forward, then dissolved into giggles. God, he’d scared the bejesus out of her! Pulling her headphones down around her neck, she blurted, “How long were you standing there?!”

Chuckling, he started striding closer, saying, “A few hours, no big deal.”

A few _hours_ , was it? “Wow,” she joked, “I guess I was stuck in a time loop or something, then. Thanks for getting me out,” she intoned.

Reaching her, Mikey slid his arms around her, grinning (and _no_ she was _not_ already blushing). “Ah, no problem,” he said, “I’d do anything for you.”

Her stomach did a somersault. Now absolutely blushing, Lisa ducked her head down to hide from his gaze, fist lifting to her mouth. He was too much, honestly…

…Well, not that she minded.

Evidently Mikey didn’t approve of her shy moment, because he teased quietly, “My eyes are up here,” his hand coming to cup her jaw and lift her face back up. **[As their dual blue-eyed gazes met and held](https://www.deviantart.com/dragonslover1/art/Smile-740951594)** , her embarrassment faded. Who had time to be giddy with such a sweetheart as their boyfriend, anyway?

And as his thumb stroked across her cheek, filling her with sweet emotions, she couldn’t help but reach out, herself. One hand came to rest on his shoulder, but her other drifted up his neck, her own thumb petting the column of his throat. It was a cute, precious moment, she thought, and one she just didn’t want disturbed.

The music continued to play from her headphones, and he tilted his head, listening. “Replay?” he checked.

She grinned. “Yep.”

Chuckling, he seemed to focus, listening closer. Then, to her surprise, he managed to pinpoint the lyrics, starting to sing along with the song:

 _I can be your melody_  
Oh girl I could write you a symphony  
The one that could fill your fantasies  
So come baby girl let’s sing with me

Surprised but pleased, she chuckled and joined him, turning the song into a duet. It didn’t last very long, though, before Mikey complained, “Man, wish I’d brought a stereo.”

Light bulb.

Lifting a finger for patience, she slipped away to where she’d dropped her backpack. Then, hauling it up onto the vents, she unzipped it and retrieved external speakers. She quickly swapped her headphones for the speakers and then music filled the air around them.

Victorious, Lisa spun around – to find he’d been standing _directly_ behind her and she hadn’t even noticed. He startled the hell out of her; she jolted, recoiling into the vent and nearly knocking over backpack in the process.

 _“Christ,”_ she complained.

“Okay,” Mikey started, “you really need to switch to decaf.”

“Hah! Funny, Mikey,” she chided, feeling a little less amused than usual from his quips. Seriously, her heart was going a mile a minute.

Smiling to himself, he apologized, “Sorry, I’ll try not to spook you anymore.”

“Appreciated,” she agreed with a shaky laugh. “Not sure how much higher my blood pressure can get before I have a heart attack.”

Shrugging, he offered lightly, “If you have a heart attack, that just means I get to do CPR.”

Brows lifting, she checked, “You know CPR? Also, _way_ overused line.”

He laughed. “Actually, no…I should take a lesson sometime.”

“Right. Just hop on down to the nearest YMCA,” she teased.

“They say they’re fully inclusive, no discrimination,” he pointed out.

“Dare ya to try that,” she commented dryly.

He giggled. “Don’t test me,” he warned her. “Never met a dare I was scared of.”

“That sounds like a dare,” she quipped.

“I dare you to dare me to do something,” he challenged.

A pleased grin split her face. “Dunno about you, but so far I’m seeing nothing but fun times ahead. And I dare you to prove me wrong,” she hinted.

He tisked. “Well, you got me there. Have to give up on that one.”

Throwing her arms up, Lisa crowed, “Victory!”

Her boyfriend leaned in then, his target all too obvious; she lifted her chin, popping up on her toes just a bit, to meet him halfway. And he gave her the sweetest little kiss, just like the very first they’d shared – the one that had resulted in a serious make-out session as soon as she’d returned it.

She half expected it to happen again – okay, she _wanted_ it to happen again – but they were interrupted by a very loud, deep _ahem_ from her right.

Jerking back, floundering over the thought that someone else had seen that, Lisa swung her gaze over even as Mikey just gave an annoyed grunt.

“Dude,” he complained.

It was Leonardo, she saw. Oh god, were they _all_ here? That was _not_ part of her plan, and certainly not something she felt equipped to handle right then. She couldn’t help a tiny, tense whimper, leaning just an inch closer to Mikey. If she seemed afraid right then, it’s because she was – those turtles were intimidating as hell.

Aside from Mikey, all three of them legitimately scared her.

Catching on, her boyfriend looped an arm around her, pulling her tight against him. “It’s fine,” he promised, “Leo just wanted to talk to you. Then he’s leaving. Right?” he asked with an edge to his tone, tossing his elder brother a hard look.

Holy shit, Mikey looked so cool right then. Lisa had to fight to not physically swoon. Floundering for a distraction, she reached over to pause her iPod; the music was loud and would only end up making conversation difficult.

Far from intimidated, Leo just strode forward, gesturing innocently. “That _was_ the agreement,” he said, but the way he said it left her suspicious.

The measuring look Mikey gave Leo told her he wasn’t convinced, either.

Then suddenly Raphael was there, spooking Lisa as he just plopped down from some greater height – wait, what was there to climb onto around here?! Everything was level!! – and declaring, “Yeah, we jus’ wanted to come say ‘hey’.”

Suffice to say that _his_ entrance pulled a frightened squeak out of her, making her instinctively cling to her boyfriend. The only things that kept Lisa from running the other way – he looked so _terrifying_ right then, darkly grinning at her – was the fact that Mikey hugged her close and started petting at her neck, and the knowledge that Jocelyn had Raphael completely under her thumb. He couldn’t be that much of a big, bad boy if Jo could control with a few words and touches, right?

…Right?

God, Lisa wished Jocelyn was here right now.

But although Mikey chided Raphael for spooking her and the bigger male just shrugged and wandered around to stand alongside Leo, right then all she could think about was his threat – _you better hope me and my bros never just see you on the street_.

Well, there were two of them, right there.

Trying to swallow down her nerves, telling herself repeatedly that Mikey was here and he’d keep her safe and regardless she knew his brothers weren’t going to do anything to his girlfriend, she tried to forge ahead, saying, “Hey Leo, Raph…”

Then, recalling that one was still missing, she glanced around, venturing, “So where’s, um…”

Oh, god.

Her mind blanked, refusing to recall the fourth brother’s name. She could envision him so easily – he was so damn tall, covered in various gadgets, with an honestly adorable voice…hell, she could even remember that he’d been wearing suspenders and combat boots! But she couldn’t remember his damn _name?_

For a few moments she floundered verbally, making various noises as she struggled to frantically recall the last brother’s name, desperate to not embarrass herself. Granted, it’d been six weeks and she’d barely spoken to any of the others at the party – her attention had been on Mikey almost the entire time – but this was just ridiculous.

Leonardo. Raphael. Michelangelo.

…And…??

As she royally fucked this up, Mikey offered with a wince, “…Donnie?”

All she’d needed was the first syllable, apparently, because as soon as he started speaking she finished in unison, “Donnie!” with a finger snap. Then, a hand on her forehead, grimacing, she said to Mikey, “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I forgot…this is so embarrassing.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her, “you only met us all the once.” Then, pouting a little, he complained, “I’m kinda sad you remembered _their_ names at all,” with a nod towards Leo and Raph. “Makes me feel less special.”

 _N’yaawww,_ that was so cute…

Raph gave a loud snort. “Oh, don’t worry, little bro,” he joked, “you’ve _always_ been special.”

Lisa’s jaw dropped in shock; did he seriously just directly insult Mikey?!

Apparently used to this, Mikey just rolled his eyes. Then, a wicked gleam to his eye, he replied, “Ooooooooh, I’m tellin’ Jo.”

To her surprise, Raph’s eyes widened, and she could swear he paled. He made a vague sound of panic, cleared his throat, then said gruffly, “Y-yeah? What’s she gonna do? Nuthin’.” He lifted his chin and crossed his arms, but even scared little Lisa could see he was posturing.

She ventured meekly, “I bet Jo’s gonna tear you a new one.”

Mikey chortled; Raph swung his gaze over to Lisa, narrowing his eyes. “Watch yerself,” he warned.

She immediately pressed in tighter to Mikey.

Annoyed now, Mikey waved an arm at his brothers. “Dude! Raph! Quit pickin’ on Lisa,” he snapped, even as he secured his grip around her. It was helpfully comforting.

Smirking, Raph replied, “Just playin’ a little.”

Oh, that was _playing_ , was it? Lisa glowered at him; then, wondering what Leo thought of all this, she looked pointedly at the eldest.

Leo was watching her, she saw, this mostly blank look on his face like he was reserving judgement. Her spine as weak as it was, she couldn’t stand up to that look; she turned away to focus on something on her other side.

Mikey started to argue with Raphael, but that was sidetracked when Donnie’s voice reached them: “Ooh, loot!”

Lisa swung her gaze his way with _another_ surprised jump, finding that Donnie had pulled her duffel bag out from under its hiding place. A panicked kind of squeak left her lips as she dove for it; seeing her coming, he just lifted it up above his head – _way_ out of her reach.

“What’s that?” Leo asked, suspicion to his voice.

“Yer in trooouuuuble,” Raph teased, amused.

Embarrassment, as it turned out, could make a girl _really_ brave. Lisa attempted to climb onto the vent, intent on jumping for the bag and taking it back by force, though admittedly she didn’t have a plan for what to do after getting it back. But a pair of arms banded around her waist to pull her down again after getting just one foot on the cold metal.

“Whoa, whoa,” Mikey was saying, holding her against him. “Bad idea, you could get hurt.”

She was _about to_ – as soon as that bag was opened she was going to be revealed as a panicky, geeky girl with no concept of pacing or even the slightest understanding of what it means to go on a date.

Panicking, she blurted, “It’s nothing, just junk! DJ stuff!”

Though Mikey immediately agreed with her – “You heard her, leave it!” – his brothers ignored them both, swarming over the bag. To her surprise, Donnie actually started scanning it using some device on his wrist; rolling his eyes, Raph just opened the zipper. “Nerd,” he chided.

“It could’ve been a bomb or something,” Donnie defended himself.

“Why would it be a _bomb?”_ Mikey demanded, indignant.

“You never know, people can be really crafty,” Donnie shot back.

As if making a point, Raph hooked a thumb at Lisa; both her and Mikey snapped an offended, “Hey!!”

“Guys,” Leo said, a note of unflinching authority to his voice, “it’s just _snacks_.”

All eyes fell to the bag and its contents while Lisa covered her face with both hands, her face burning.

At least Mikey seemed pleased, saying, “Snacks? You brought snacks?!” He sounded excited enough that she peeked out from between her fingers to glance at him.

By now the guys were divesting the bag of its contents, and it was actually kind of funny – Raph just grabbed stuff and put it on the vents, but Donnie and Leo were organizing everything into piles, even taking from Raph’s collection in the process. And though she could feel that Mikey wanted to go and join them, standing up straight and lifting his chin to see what he could around his brothers’ massive bodies and shells, he wasn’t letting go of her.

It helped Lisa relax, little by little. Her trust was growing, starting to really believe that she was his favorite thing.

She liked that idea. And as she kept staring at Mikey, he noticed, looking down at her. They locked eyes; she smiled, no longer quite so embarrassed by her impulsive decision to load up a bag with snacks and drinks.

“Hey, Mikey,” Leo called then. Without even waiting a second, Leo tossed a can at him; Mikey reflexively caught while Lisa flinched at the incoming object, going so far as to cover her head.

Good lord. She could swear Mikey hadn’t even _seen_ the can. His eyes had been on her the whole time! He’d seriously blind-caught that can!

He. Was. So. _Cool!  
_

She must have been staring pretty hard because he started to look embarrassed, grinning to himself. Then, looking down at what he had in his hand for the first time, his face lit up.

“Orange Crush!” he cheered, happy. “Aww, thanks, kitten,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She giggled, the nickname giving her a smattering of butterflies in her belly.

Then, examining the can, he asked, “Why were you hiding it…? Was it a surprise?” he demanded suddenly, expression bright.

Blushing, she muttered, “N-no, not really…I just kinda…panicked?” she admitted with a wince. Sighing, she tried to explain, “I’ve never been on a real date before so I was like, okay, what do I bring? Do I bring anything? Usually guys handle that, but then I was like, hang on, what can _you_ bring? It’s not like you can hop down to the corner store and whatever, so I just…”

She grunted then, pouting. “I spent, like, eighty dollars on that crap. God, I’m such a freak…”

At that, Mikey hugged her tight with an adorable whine. “Aww, you’re not a freak, babe. You’re cute,” he told her. “And I love it, so thanks.” Grinning, he bumped his forehead against hers, drawing a little, pleased smile out of her.

Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad idea after all…

But then she heard a plastic bag rip open and glanced over to find that, totally without invitation, Mikey’s brothers were delving into her stash.

“Hey!” she snapped, aggravated. She’d bought all that for her and Mikey, not _them!_ Sure, she’d been fine with them just sorting through the stuff, admitting to herself that their suspicious and cautious habits were wholly justified, but this?

Indignation gave her strength and she stomped over to shove at them, grabbing what she could and stuffing it back in the bag with sharp motions.

Raphael was chuckling, holding his opened bag of Cheetos; Donnie was absently scratching his cheek, looking chagrined; Leo had a notable pained smile on his face, like he’d known this was going to happen but also knew he couldn’t have stopped it.

Mikey hesitated only a second before coming to help her, batting away Raph’s hands when he started messing with them by playfully grabbing at stuff. It was clear by now that the musclehead’s entire purpose here was to irritate them – and, credit where it’s due, he was doing a good job of it.

And he was obviously amusing himself in the process. Well, Lisa thought darkly, at least _he’s_ having a good time.

Her task done, she turned back to Mikey and, hands pressed together in a mimicry of a prayer, asked, “Okay, what’s the trick? Is there a key phrase or something?”

Baffled, he asked, “For what?”

“For getting rid of your brothers,” she deadpanned.

Mikey and Raphael burst into laughter; Leo hung his head, chuckling, while Donnie covered his mouth and tried to smother a series of nerdish giggles.

Their reactions made her feel _way_ better about this whole event.

* * *

In the end, no one left – much to the couple’s irritation. But, Mikey admitted, he couldn’t blame his brothers; after the way he’d been the last few weeks, their caution was understandable. They were just making sure there wouldn’t be a repeat. It was touching.

But he still wanted to clock all three of them and kick them off the roof. Knowing them, though, they’d just hang around and eavesdrop instead; in the end there was no real stopping this. So, with his options limited, Mikey just made sure to keep close to Lisa (read: keep an arm around her _constantly_ ) and support her.

True to his word, Leo wasn’t “grilling” her, but he _was_ carefully probing for information and asking for elaboration when her explanations weren’t satisfactory. Raph, meanwhile, was mostly just relaxing, some bag of treats or another in his hand at all times. He didn’t talk much, just lounging against a low wall, idly snacking. Donnie, on the other hand, didn’t look like he was paying any attention to what was going on, eyes constantly focused on some device or another, though he _did_ offer thoughts and queries every so often.

So far Lisa had practically given her entire life story, from her parents to her brother to her home to her school life (she looked visibly uncomfortable there, citing bullying and leaving it at that).

Mikey already knew some of this, but a great deal of her story was also new to him, so he was happy to hear it.

Her mother’s name is Brandy Samson, her father’s is Kevin Eastman, and her brother’s is Sam (short for Samuel). Confused, Raph had asked about that – “Sam Samson? Really?” – and Lisa had shrugged.

“Mom and Dad were planning on getting married when she got pregnant with Sam,” she’d explained, “and they picked his name because it was kind of funny, but, you know, the plan was for them to marry before he was born. Didn’t work out.” 

Apparently their relationship had fallen apart shortly after Lisa was born, which was three years after her brother. Her father had moved out and almost totally lost contact with his former girlfriend and children since then. Lisa hadn’t received a birthday card or gift from him since she was fourteen. Other than keeping up his child support payments until her eighteenth birthday, he’d been all but absent.

“Them’s the breaks,” Lisa had shrugged when Mikey voiced his concern over that. “Mom and us lived with her parents for most of my life, so we at least had a steady home.”

When Mikey asked why she lived in an apartment if she had a home, she explained that she lived with her brother in a 2-bedroom place; her mother still lived with her parents, but now almost exclusively to take care of the aging couple. It was too noisy and cramped to have five people in the small home, so the two of them moved out as soon as Lisa had graduated.

Then Donnie asked, “What about college?”

“What about it?” Lisa returned, defensive.

“Well, don’t most graduates go straight to college? Get a higher education?”

As Mikey watched her now, he saw this was a sensitive subject for her. Before he could speak up, though, she was answering, “Well, sure, _most_ do – if they’re willing to take on a lifetime of student debt.”

Giving her a tilted-head glance, Donnie checked, “You can pay that off as soon as you get a good-paying job–”

“Uh, no, you really can’t,” she cut him off, growing more agitated.

Confused, he dropped that and asked instead, “That aside, don’t you want a higher education?”

“Not really,” she hedged, glancing away.

“Why not?” he pressed.

Mikey could see that his brother was fascinated by Lisa’s reasoning, but he could also see that his girlfriend was uncomfortable as hell. So he cut in with a sharp, “Bro, drop it.”

Arms wide, Donnie replied, “What? I’m just curious. Most people get a diploma right away. Jocelyn didn’t because she’d going to _ballet_ college, starting her career in performance arts at the same time. For everyone else, college is just the default–”

“I said _drop it,”_ Mikey warned.

“Mikey,” Leo began, his tone saying _watch your words_. Trying to prevent a fight, Mikey guessed.

But the avoidance tactics only succeeded in making Donnie even _more_ curious, and he ventured, “Let’s try this: Lisa, is there anything beyond high school courses you would’ve wanted to take?”

Shoulders hunching, she bit out, “No.”

“Nothing?” he checked, surprised.

“No.”

“What about music? There’s music classes–”

“There’s _band_ classes,” she corrected. “Not the same thing as creating mixes.”

“There’s composing classes, surely–”

“I’m not a composer!”

“There’s also dance–”

“ _And_ I’m not a performer,” she interrupted. “Look, just drop it, okay?”

Mikey was about ready to throw something if Donnie didn’t stop; lucky for him the genius seemed to catch on, shutting his trap.

For a whole five seconds.

Then he said, “You still haven’t explained why–”

Aggravated, Lisa snapped, “Because I-I’m, I’m not–” she paused, aggressively ruffling her hair for a moment “–I’m too poor and stupid for college, okay?!”

Silence. All eyes locked onto the human amongst the turtles, surprised and sympathetic. Mikey, in particular, could sense how much this tore up Lisa inside, so he scooted over on the vents to close the few inches still separating them, hugging her tight. She kept her eyes pointedly on her vibrant yellow high-tops, but she leaned into him all the same.

Much more quietly, she went on, “My family’s always been dirt poor. We clipped coupons, got food stamps, sometimes went to food shelters…sometimes went hungry…we don’t have the kind of money to pay for college. If I go, I’ll just end up with a debt that grows too fast for me to pay off. And besides, I…I _barely_ graduated this year…”

Heart aching, all too familiar with knowing what it feels like to realize you’re stupid, Mikey hugged Lisa tight. “It’s okay, Lise,” he told her gently.

She shook her head. Then, after giving her eyes a quick wipe – he could smell the tears she’d brushed away and it made his chest ache – she said, “Every semester…every semester since junior high, I’ve failed at least one class. I had to attend summer school _every year_. There were so many make-up tests, so much tutoring, and I still just…I couldn’t get it. I only graduated this year cause I learned to take on extra credit jobs to add to my credits…”

Carefully, Leo ventured, “It couldn’t have been that bad…surely there were subjects you were good at?”

She gave him a weak glare. “Cs and Ds across the board,” she intoned. “I’m the – the damn idiot who answers the question, ‘When was the war of 1812?’ with, ‘I don’t know.’“

Confused, Mikey asked, “….1812?”

“1812 to 1815,” Donnie corrected. “That’s the joke.”

Looking utterly defeated, Lisa murmured, “And I _still_ answered ‘I don’t know’.”

For a long moment no one said anything, thoughts the primary export for the time being. Sympathetic as hell, Mikey just hugged her closer and kissed her temple, hoping to ease the self-hatred he knew she was feeling right then. With a sigh she reached up to grasp his arm, fingers brushing his skin in random patterns.

Despite the heavy emotions he felt right then, those little strokes pulled a little smile out of him. He nuzzled her hair, returning the affection – and realizing in a rush that his desire to feel her hair against his lips had just been fulfilled.

It was an even better sensation than he’d expected, and it took a lot of effort on his part to keep himself still.

Sighing, she murmured, “If I go to college I’ll just end up in classes being taught things I don’t understand and can’t remember, surrounded by people who’re leagues smarter than me. Nothing could be worse for me.”

Then, exhaling a shaky breath, she concluded with a more upbeat tone, “So, no, I’m not going to college. For people like me, it’s just better to find a job quickly, rather than struggle for a decade to get a four-year diploma and build up debt along the way. I mean I had a hard enough time with high school-level courses – there’s no way I can do _college_ -level courses.”

“Do what you can do,” Raph commented, speaking up for the first time in a half hour. He nodded, approving, “Smart. Smarter than the idiots who wrack up all that debt just t’get the same pay as everyone else, anyway.”

To Mikey’s surprise, that made Lisa smile. And, he realized, that might very well be the only time she’d ever been called _smart_. It was obviously a sensitive subject – her school life and perception of her own intelligence – and made him think…this must be the root of that bullying she’d mentioned.

Teasing the kid in class who was struggling the most…typical childish behavior and teenage cruelty. Mikey understood; he knew how that felt. Suffice to say Raph, in particular, had been much the same to _him_ as they grew up.

And, at that moment, Mikey realized something important: as much as he and Lisa had both resisted having to share this date, it’d been good. Despite the rocky start, he could tell that she was coming to relax more around his brothers, an incredible change from how she’d flinched and clung to him earlier just from them showing themselves (though, to be fair, Raph had intentionally spooked her, the jerk; Mikey would be having _words_ with him later).

In the end, he was pleased. They’d have plenty of dates later, he’d make sure of it; losing this one to his brothers butting in had proved to be for a worthy cause.


	8. First Real Date

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Following that _seriously_ uncomfortable talk about Lisa’s life, Leo changed the subject with one clever question. 

“So…DJing, huh?” 

Mikey appreciated that swift, if blunt, swap to a more pleasant topic. Lisa being so tense had made _him_ tense – and kind of made him angry at Donnie. Sure, the line of questions from the purple-clad terrapin were just his way of getting to know Lisa and, maybe a little more indirectly, to help her out, but _she_ hadn’t known that. 

Mikey could tell the whole thing had left her feeling vulnerable and powerless, and lacking any real idea what to do to fix that, he was all the more glad that Leo had changed the subject to one of her strengths. 

_Now_ she was clearly brightening, sitting up a little straighter, her eyes alight with whatever thoughts were going on in her head right then. It made her look adorable as all hell, making Mikey want privacy with her all the more – then, at least, he’d be able to give her more smooches. 

It was almost pathetic how much he wanted that. But, he figured, that wasn’t _his_ fault – he was an affectionate type, Lisa clearly liked that about him, _and_ she had the prettiest lips he’d ever beheld. They were obviously perfect for each other. Thinking about that, it just made sense that he wanted to kiss her so much. 

When he caught himself biting his lip, eyes locked on her mouth as she spoke, is when he knew he had to get his brothers out of here. Lisa was too shy to let him kiss her in front of them – otherwise he totally would be right then. 

“Yeah,” she was saying, “DJing is a lot of fun. And it’s the first… _thing_ that I ever really _got_ , you know?” Her fingers moved then, as if she were working at a booth, pressing buttons and twisting dials – envisioning it. 

Mikey thought it was entirely too cute. 

“So,” Donnie asked, “it doesn’t count for that ‘Cs and Ds across the board’ thing?”

“Oh, hell, no,” she agreed. “If there were a DJing class in high school – straight As, I bet you.” 

Raph asked then, “What makes DJing so special?” 

Shrugging, she answered, “Dunno, really. Something about music just makes sense in a way nothing else ever did. Like I have so much trouble focusing in class, but put me in front of a computer and ask me to make a new hour-long mix? I’ll be on that all night,” she told them, “no breaks, no stress, no lapse of focus. I never get bored…never wanna stop.” She sounded so wistful, so quietly pleased. 

Somehow that made Mikey really happy – like she found it, she had her ‘thing’. Everyone did, he thought, and his was skateboarding; he could mess around with it all day and never get bored or tired of it. Just like Raph with his workouts, Leo with his weapons training, and Donnie with his projects. Splinter had his bonsai trees, April had her journalism, Jocelyn had her ballet. 

They all had something, a thing that sucked you in and held you prisoner until your own bodily needs forced you to stop. Being a DJ was Lisa’s “something”.  

He was glad she’d found it. 

Then Donnie ventured gently, “That sounds like you might have ADD.” 

She nodded. “ADD or ADHD – I’ve heard that before,” she agreed. “Never tried to get it tested, though.” 

“Why not?”

Brow creasing, she confessed, “Because that’s not a question I want answered.” 

Donnie looked concerned about that, but Mikey gave him a silencing kind of look, telling Lisa, “That’s fine, no big deal. It’s not like it makes any difference anyway.” 

She smiled at him, then leaned over to bump him with her shoulder – and Mikey got a huge shot of joy from the move. _Ohmygod, she bumped me,_ he thought, grinning to himself. _He_ did that same thing! No one else had ever done it back, though, so that teeny tiny little move made him so happy he felt like crowing. 

Instead, he nudged her back, and as he did so she started giggling. 

_Aaaaahhhh ohmygod she’ssocute whatdoido_ , he thought in a rush, having an extremely hard time resisting the urge to freak the fuck out. He was giddy, excited, overflowing with warmth; heart racing and grinning and muscles totally tense just to keep himself in place…

…and all because they’d _bumped_ each other? 

Girlfriends were the _best!!_ Or, heck, not even ‘girlfriends’ – _Lisa_ was the best! The greatest, the cutest, the coolest, the sweetest…she made his mind devolve into the equivalent of helpless giggling and vague noises, made him want to crush her against him and pepper her face with kisses. 

At that moment, drowning in his feelings for her, he couldn’t think of a reason _not_ to. So he took her hand, turned her face towards him, and kissed her full on the mouth. 

Leo, directly on her other side, rolled his eyes; Mikey punched his shoulder. Lisa, on the other hand, yanked back with a series of nervous giggles, covering her face with both hands. 

Not nearly done yet, Mikey just started kissing her wherever he could – her cheek, her temple, her ear, her hands; she wriggled and kicked her legs, even squeaking when his kisses tickled her. 

“Got it,” Leo intoned dryly, moving away from the pair. Raph was chuckling, clearly amused, while Donnie was looking anywhere but at the couple. Back in Boss Mode, Leo directed, “Alright, c’mon guys. Raph, leave the chips.” 

Raph – now standing with a full-sized bag of chips in hand – spread his arms. “Hey, come on, they don’t mind,” he said, gesturing the couple. 

It was pretty clear by now that Lisa was in _no way_ able to respond; she’d just curled up, knees to her chest and blushing furiously, and kept half-heartedly pushing at Mikey as he kept showering her with affectionate pecks, her giggles never ceasing. 

“Raph,” Leo sighed. 

Mikey waved his arm at them. “Just go, I don’t care,” he said between smooches to his girlfriend’s face. 

“Stop, stop, ohmygod,” she was giggling. 

Donnie was long gone by then, and with a shake of his head, Leo followed. Raph gave Mikey a thumb’s up before taking off, too, leaving the couple alone. _Finally!_

With his brothers gone, Mikey finally stopped. He’d been overdoing it intentionally to get them to leave, though he admitted he’d still loved every second of the display. 

Grinning at Lisa – she was red as a tomato, caught somewhere between joy and mortification – he commented, “And that’s how to get rid of my brothers.” 

Her dying giggles kicked back up and she pitched forward on herself, hands over her face. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, bar none, and it made him get up from his seat to stand in front of her. Giddy, needy feelings sated, an appreciation had taken its place, leading him to gently pull her back up. 

She looked a little uncertain, which made sense. He’d surprised the hell out of her just now; she was probably wondering what he was going to do next. 

Honestly, Mikey wanted to just kiss her senseless. But that blush of hers held him back, worried over what might happen if he gave her too much all at once. Like, was it possible to pass out from blushing? The idea was kind of precious, actually, but he wanted her awake, not unconscious. 

And then she gave him this big grin and – 

_Swoon!  
_

Diving right in, he kissed her again, absolutely loving the way she tilted her head and lifted her chin to meet him and the soft press of her lips and the tiny little hum she gave and _for serious_ , this girl was going to utterly destroy him. 

Weird how that didn’t scare him at all. 

Then her hands lifted to his neck, fingers idly trailing along his skin, and he shivered, a soft vibration starting in his throat. He was trying to keep his impulses under control, keep the kiss sweet and slow, just enjoying the moment…but Lisa sidelined that when she caught his lower lip and gave it a little suck. 

Mikey almost collapsed on the spot, a sudden weakness infusing his knees; his desire for more kept him standing, though, instead just cupping her cheek and giving her a firmer, more demanding kiss. Recalling the way her tongue had tasted, how her tongue stud had felt, and the way she’d clung to him that first night, he couldn’t help trying to steer things back in that direction. 

He just so badly wanted to have that again. 

But when he gave her lips a little lick – the thing that had gotten her to respond so sweetly the first time – she instead gave a little jolt, pulling back from him. He tried to follow; she turned her face away, smiling and touching her lips. 

Okay, he thought, Lisa was being more cautious. Slower build. He could do that. 

….with difficulty. 

Clearing his throat, he eased back, giving her space. He couldn’t resist licking his lips, though, getting the last hints of her flavor while he still could. A part of him was scared that she’d turn him down – again – but her pleased expression soothed that fear. 

Oh, she was happy, he could see it. 

Still, he ventured, “Sorry…if that was too much too soon.” 

Looking up at him, she chuckled. “No, it wasn’t…too much and whatever. I just kinda…” she started, running her fingers back and forth over his chain necklace, “wanna take it slower this time, you know?” 

Slower. 

Mikey could have whined. He wasn’t the _slow_ type – but, damn it, if she wanted it, he would make it happen. In his mind, though, he couldn’t help thinking that if Lisa were more like Jo…

But, no. Lisa, not Jo. _Forget Jo,_ he told himself. _Focus on Lisa. Work with her._ She was so adorably skittish, and while he thought he might’ve liked it better if she were more bold, he wasn’t about to push for that. He liked Lisa exactly as she was. 

Besides, it wasn’t like intimacy was the only thing he wanted of her – he enjoyed talking to her, playing around with her, joking with her. Thinking of that, he was all but bursting with ideas to make the rest of the night _super_ fun. 

Stepping back, he gave her hand a tug, pulling her off the vent. “So whatcha wanna do?” he asked, excited to get started. 

Biting her lip, Lisa offered, “Uhh, w-well, I was actually thinking…I wanted to ask what kinds of things _you_ wanted to do?” 

His brain almost crashed. There were entirely too many things he wanted to name even _one_ – he wanted to dance with her, cuddle with her, give her more skateboarding lessons, watch cartoons with her in his lap, kiss her –

– _her neck_ , he thought, and as the idea hit him his gaze dropped to that slender column. 

Aloud, Mikey said, “Well, there is _one_ thing I really want…” 

* * *

That…almost sounded creepy, Lisa thought. If not for the fact that this was _Mikey_ , the single most adorable boy she’d ever met, she might have thought that comment was skeevy. From him, though? 

She didn’t even need to think about it. “Which would be…?” she prompted him, absolutely fearless despite the way his gaze looked so lustful – and riveted to her neck, of all things. It was actually kind of funny, like what was he, a vampire turtle mutant hybrid? 

Eyes lifting to hers again – damn, but those baby blues of his were powerful – he asked, “Can I kiss your neck?” 

That blunt, somewhat bizarre query made her do a double-take. Baffled, she ventured, “You…wanna kiss my neck?” Like okay, but _why?  
_

When he gave a nod, looking eager as hell but not elaborating, she felt her first trickle of fear. Not of him – god knows Mikey would never _scare_ her – but of the unknown, of her own inexperience. What was the appeal, here? Was it a turtle thing, or was this just a general kind of intimacy she’d never encountered? What if this was something everyone was supposed to feel and she just…didn’t? What if her lack of enthusiasm made him sad or disappointed? 

Her experiences with things like passion were extremely limited and not at all pleasurable, a kind of dark cloud of her past. But, so far, the passions _he’d_ given her were significantly better, so she figured, why not? Worst case scenario, she learned something about _him_ , and that was a plus in her book. 

“Uhh, sure, I guess?” she answered after giving it a moment of thought. Then, guessing she should probably show a little more positivity about this – Mikey was eager; she should at least encourage that – she added, “I mean I don’t get the appeal but if you wanna do it, okay, like I want you to have stuff that you want, like I said, right? So yeah, you can–” 

As she rambled on, steadily growing more panicked as the words wouldn’t freaking _stop_ , Mikey grinned to himself, chuckled, then dove in. A hand on her neck, he guided her head to tilt so he had room and successfully cut off her rambling in one move. 

Then, ever so sweetly, he gave her this tiny kiss. And, ohmygod, it sent butterflies into flight in her belly. Surprised but pleased – and still kind of confused – her hand lifted to curve around his neck, the touch lightly suggesting he stay right where he was. 

Catching on to her nonverbal request, he slid his arms around her in a soft embrace and gave her skin a gentle nuzzle. She thought she heard him growl, then, but the sound was too soft and delayed to be that. And she could feel it better than she could hear it, her hand on his neck telling her just how strong the vibrations were despite the low sound of it. 

Curious, she murmured, “What’s that sound…?” 

For a moment he was very still. Then, lifting his head to look at her sideways, he asked, “You could hear that…?” 

Blinking, even more confused now, she replied, “Uhh, yeah?” 

Obviously not quite believing her, he checked, “A low rumble?” 

“…Yeah,” she intoned slowly, “kinda like a purr but lower and not as rapid…” 

“You can seriously hear it,” he said, impressed. Judging by his smile, he was happy about that. He answered, “It’s a turtle thing, we call it ‘churring’. Means I’m happy,” he told her. 

At once she felt her face heat. He seriously had a ‘happy’ sound – and she’d made him make it just by letting him kiss her? She clapped her hands over her face, ducking low and giggling. Holy _crap_ , this was amazing! He was the cutest boy _ever_ – how had she gotten so freaking _lucky?  
_

Then, just to make things worse, he pulled her hands away from her face, lifted her chin, and kissed the tip of her nose. 

Her emotions went so haywire she almost squealed. 

_I’m dead, that’s it, I’m dying_ , she thought, feeling dramatic as hell. She shook her head, turned around, whipped her hands and bounced on her toes. “Not fair!” she complained aloud. 

His arms just banded around her, nuzzling into her just behind her ear – and she immediately started squirming and laughing, the move tickling her. Refusing to let her go, he started making biting noises, nuzzling more insistently, and she just lost it. 

Laughing hysterically in her boyfriend’s arms, delighted and amused, Lisa had the sudden revelation that this was _it –_ after a ton of failed relationships, she finally had one that was working. One based on mutual affection, common interests, and positive emotions. A part of her kind of lamented the fact that she couldn’t find a _human_ who would treat like a person rather than an object, but as for the rest of her? 

She had one of just _four_ of the most unique people in existence as her boyfriend. What could be luckier than that? Mikey was _her_ boyfriend – no one else’s. The rest of the world didn’t know what they were missing, she thought, and she felt just a little haughty about that. 

She’d never felt safer or more appreciated than she did right then. 

He chose then to release her – which was good, really, cause while all those thoughts were going around her head, it coincided with her being tickled to death. After all that laughing, though, her legs wouldn’t work, and Mikey was quick make sure she was eased to the ground rather than just flopping over. 

Then he sat down beside her, facing the opposite direction she was in a way that felt directly romantic. 

Or maybe she was just affection-starved and seeing romance in the simplest actions. Who would know? 

“So,” he started, still grinning, “whatchu wanna do?” 

Still catching her breath, a little winded, she ventured, “Hah, maybe don’t ask _me_ that.” 

Face pinching in confusion, he said, “Uhh, why not?” 

Wincing, she explained, “I think I’ve proven by now my decision-making skills are sub-par.” 

He seemed to disagree. “I don’t see anything wrong with your choices,” he told her. 

Shocked by that, she blurted, “It was my stupid decision that – what was it, a month and a half? My decision caused the both of us misery for a month and a half!” she insisted. 

To her surprise, Mikey just smiled. “And it was your decision,” he countered, “that brought you to the party, your decision to let me take you home, your decision to chase me down yesterday, and your decision to start over. Forget the rest,” he told her firmly, “it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

Her eyes filled with moisture, heart touched by his words. Battling against an urge to cry, she snapped brokenly, “H-how – how dare you!” and curled up, pressing her face into her knees. 

She heard Mikey chuckle, then move, his hands coming to play with her hair. “How dare I what? What’d I do?” he demanded. 

“Nn-nn,” was her pouting reply, a little distracted by his petting. Who knew it felt so good to have your hair ruffled and stroked like that? _She_ hadn’t, that was for sure. 

“C’mon, tell me,” he prompted, obviously having fun with this. 

A part of her was mortified with herself for coming so close to tears just from that statement by him, but another part – her long-buried flirty part, maybe – made her look up and say, “How dare you make me feel like this.” 

For a moment he looked taken aback, totally caught off guard. Then, quiet and tentative, he asked, “Feel like what?” 

So much hope was on display right then, his blue eyes seeming to beg her to say what he wanted her to say. Skittish being that she was, she didn’t think she could say it – not aloud, and certainly not yet. 

But she could _think_ it, the words circling in her mind: _like I’m falling in love_. 

Short of telling him that, though, she thought maybe she could _show_ him. And he was so close, it was easy to just lean in and give him a sweet kiss. And, _damn_ , his lips felt so good – soft, warm, giving, weirdly sweet. But maybe that was just the remnants of his Orange Crush – he’d drunk three cans already. 

Then, feeling so giddy about what she’d just intentionally tried to tell him through touch, she ducked her head and giggled, covering her face for the umpteenth time that night. 

Hidden as she was, she missed Mikey’s reaction, but it felt a little like he was doing the same thing she was. It didn’t last long, though; soon he was back on his feet and tugging on her to join him. 

“C’mon,” he prompted her, “we only have a little while, right? Let’s have fun!” 

She could do that. Following his pulls, Lisa got to her feet again, nodding. “Alright, what do you wanna do?” she asked. 

He paused, thoughtful, then – face lighting up – he declared, “Put your iPod back on, I wanna dance with you.” 

Freaking _done_ , she thought, all but skipping to her iPod to do so. Her ‘Mikey’ playlist on shuffle and repeat, she skipped to _Cake By The Ocean_ and started it. She just _loved_ how this song started with those clear, low guitar strums. 

She bobbed her head for a moment, then hopped back towards her boyfriend with a couple quick criss-crossing steps. He laughed, clearly delighted with her, then perfectly mirrored her moves. As the music continued to play, that became their game: mimicking and mirroring one another’s dances. 

[](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2FpHKbaMj8mfI&t=ZDFlOGE0ZWNjMjMyZDA4YzIxMjUzNTgwOTY4ZjNmZTg3YWE1NDg4ZSxiekFienhpYw%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173147072539%2Fthe-dj-part-8&m=0)_Waste time with a masterpiece, don’t waste time with a masterpiece_  
You should be rolling with me, you should be rolling with me, ah  
You’re a real-life fantasy, you’re a real-life fantasy  
But you’re moving so carefully, let’s start living dangerously 

She only tripped twice during this competition, and both times Mikey caught her so quickly she hadn’t even seen him _move_ – he was just in one pose, then _boom_ , he had her. It felt like only a split second had passed each time. 

And despite the fact that it left her dizzy from the rush of chemicals to her brain – adrenaline from the fall, then relief as she _didn’t_ hit the ground – he never took advantage of that. He just laughed a little, got her steady, and picked up where they left off. 

He was _such_ a sweetheart, honestly, and it left unlucky Lisa feeling…lucky. He was cute, sweet, skilled, incredibly fast, chivalrous, accommodating, trustful, funny, affectionate, positive… 

God, she was so glad she’s chased him down. Now that she had him in her life, she couldn’t imagine not having his particular brand of sunshine warming her. She also had _no idea_ how she was going to explain this to Sam – because, eventually, she’d need to introduce Mikey to her family. Her grandparents, she thought, didn’t need to know. They’d only end up flipping out. 

But her mother and brother deserved to know about him. After all, she had a strong feeling she was going to be wearing a permanent grin from now till the Apocalypse. They were bound to get curious. 

Maybe she should call up Jocelyn, then – see how she’d handled introducing Raphael to Cecilia. 

Decided, Lisa put that train of thought aside, focusing back on her man. She had a few hours left before she had to get home, and she planned on using them to have as much fun as she could.


	9. Sharetime

**Rating:** PG (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Mikey, Lisa quickly learned, was even more physically affectionate than she’d expected of him. He made this abundantly obvious during their dancing, always at least _close_ to her and using every excuse possible to get his hands on her. They were innocent touches, though; his hands never strayed beyond her arms or back unless he had to catch her when she tripped over her own feet. 

He was a legitimately good and sweet guy, she thought, once again feeling like the luckiest person alive. 

More than touching, though, she soon found he loved _hugging_ even more. As time passed more and more she would turn to grab something or do something, only to get a surprise hug from her boyfriend. She didn’t mind, though. He was warm and his hugs felt _amazing_ , absolutely overflowing with affection. 

Eventually, however, her legs couldn’t do it anymore. The dancing had dragged on for about seven songs too many for her, leaving her winded and hot and highly uncomfortable. She had to sit down and cool off. 

The _smart_ thing to do would be to take off her hoodies, but she hesitated over that. She had three layers of clothing underneath, totaling five tops, but still. She worried Mikey would notice the odd number and question it, and the last thing she wanted was to have _that_ conversation – especially here and now. 

It was, after all, related to her history of being bullied, and…well, she’d just rather not. 

So, instead, she stopped her dance – grinning and laughing despite her discomfort – panting, “Okay, okay…the human needs a break.” 

She caught a look of disappointment on Mikey’s face – followed quickly by one of joy. “Alright,” he said, nodding, “we can sit and talk.” 

He could _not_ be brought down tonight, she thought, smiling. And, thankful for the reprieve, she went and turned off her iPod and took a seat. Her boyfriend grabbed a couple cans of soda from the bag she’d brought, handing one to her. She hadn’t even _asked!  
_

Pleased all over again from how he’d just seemed to know she would want a drink, she grinned, popping it open. Then, as Mikey took a spot next to her, she got the _best_ idea. 

As soon as he had his can open, she rushed out, “Straight-arm challenge!” 

He gave her a shocked look, then laughed. “Shoulda guessed you’d know memes,” he commented. And, to her utter disbelief, he did so: lifting his arm straight out above his head, he poured the drink out. 

And she _swore_ not a single drop missed. She should’ve known he’d ace that – it was a physical challenge and he was a _ninja_. 

Lisa drank from her own can somewhat cautiously, almost positive he was going to challenge her right back…but he didn’t. Instead, he began, “Noticed your playlist has a pretty broad mix.” 

She nodded. “Yep. I am a connoisseur of all genres.” 

Hesitant, he ventured, “I don’t know what that means.” 

Snorting, she admitted, “Yeah, me neither. But I _think_ it means, like, being a fan of something?” 

By the time she said that, he’d taken out his phone. As she leaned in to see what he was doing, she found him googling _conosaur_ and had to giggle. 

Chuckling, he read aloud, “An expert judge in matters of taste.” 

“Yeah, I was totally wrong, then,” she laughed. 

Then, tilting his head, he read out how the word was spelled. At the end, he gave her a look. “Language is weird,” he told her. 

As if that were a surprise? Shaking her head, she said, “Yeah, well, we can’t really go back to grunts and hoots.” 

“Or chirps and squeaks,” he added thoughtfully. 

Confused, she echoed, “Chirps and squeaks?” 

“Turtle-speak,” he clarified. “Monkeys hoot and grunt…” 

“…and turtles chirp and squeak?” she finished, surprised. At his nod, she blurted, “Seriously?” 

“Yep. Chirp, squeak, and sometimes fart,” he grinned. 

She snorted. 

“You think I’m joking? Turtles are _masters_ of flatulence communication,” he informed her. 

By now Lisa was devolving into giggles. “You’re _so_ immature,” she told him between laughs. 

“I could show you,” he offered. 

That had her shrieking, “No, no! Please don’t, I’m good!” 

Chortling, he nodded, ending the joke before it could venture into potentially deadly territory. 

With a little, relieved sigh, Lisa commented, “Well, this confirms one thing, at least.” When Mikey gave her a questioning look, she quipped, “Turtle or human, you’re just like every other skater boy I’ve known.” 

He gave a chuff, a sound that was half amused and half offended. “They make a lot of fart jokes, huh?” he asked. 

“Ohhhhhh, yeeeaaah,” she intoned, drawing out the words. “ _So_ many fart jokes. I mean seriously, what is it with guys and farts? What’s the appeal?” So she said, but she couldn’t deny she’d laughed at literally every _trumpet_ she’d ever heard. 

She was just as immature as the boys she mocked, apparently. 

Shrugging, her boyfriend answered, “The appeal is everyone else’s reactions. Hilarious stuff.” Then, giving her a look, he said, “Raph used to hold me down and fart on me when we were kids.” 

Scrunching her nose, Lisa groaned, “Eeewwwww.” Yep, that sounded like brotherly affection, all right. It made her immensely thankful that Sam hadn’t had such inclinations; he’d only ever been protective of her, to the point where he’d hunted down and beat up several guys who’d harassed her over the years. 

Never once had he been cruel or malicious towards her. 

“Yeah, well, it didn’t last long,” Mikey was saying now. 

“Got him back?” she asked. 

“Worse – I started eating a lot of garlic and onions,” he told her with a wide, wicked smirk. 

Shuddering, she chuckled, “Oh, eww!” 

Amused, he finished with a wink, “Didn’t take him long to figure out who the winner was.” 

Waving her hands, Lisa snapped, “Okay, enough talking about farts! God!” It was funny, yes, but the mental images she was getting…

It was going to take a long time to scrub those memories from her mind. 

Mikey kept snickering for a moment longer, then got a thoughtful expression. “You know what’s funny, though?” he started. 

She hesitated to ask. “What?” 

“We didn’t stop cause of that. We stopped cause Dad made us,” he told her. 

“Your dad, the rat?” she checked. At his nod, she ventured with a wince, “S…Shrap…nel?” 

“Splinter,” he corrected with a laugh. 

Darn it. 

Dropping the name thing – that’s three out of five she’d actually remembered; not a good percentage – she asked, “So, he had enough?” She could see that, the father just putting his foot down on fart wars. 

Tapping his nose, Mikey told her, “His sense of smell’s way better than ours. After a while he made it a punishable offense.” 

“What, farting?” she laughed, dumbfounded. 

“In the Lair, yeah,” he agreed. “Made us go out into the tunnels if we had to.” 

“I hesitate to ask, but how did he punish you for that?” 

With a weak laugh, he explained, “Well, this was after we started our ninja training, so it was always something to do with that. Stuff that’d eventually benefit us. Like Raph would have to hold up heavy stuff at shoulder height,” he said, mimicking the pose with his arms straight out, “for hours on end. Leo once had to stand on the hilt of his katana when it was stabbed into the ground. Kept his balance for, like, six hours.”  

That seemed bizarre and cruel, Lisa thought, her brow pinching. “What about you?” she asked. 

Shrugging, he answered, “This one time he had me, like, hanging onto this wire with one hand.” He lifted his arm to show her, going on, “And I had one foot against a wall cause it wasn’t right where I had to be, ya know? And he tied a heating lamp to my other foot, so it hung right above his bonsai plant. He had just the one back then,” Mikey added in an aside. 

Somewhat horrified, she checked, “And how long were you like that?” 

He paused, tilting his head and thinking, then said, “Like, seven hours, I think?” 

Shocked now, she blurted, “And how old were you?!” 

Catching on to her shifting mood, he replied, “Uhh, I dunno, it doesn’t matter.” 

“The hell it doesn’t!” she snapped. “Gimme a ballpark – ten? Twelve? Fourteen?” 

Wincing a little, he ventured, “Probably…ten-ish?” 

Who the _hell_ punished ten-year-old kids by making them hang from a damn wire for seven hours?! She wanted to go hunt down Splinter and give him a good beat-down (not that she expected she _could_ , but hey, it’s the thought that counts)! Scowling now, Lisa glared at the ground and swung her feet, irritated as all hell. 

“Hey, hey,” Mikey prompted, tugging on her arm until she relented and let him take her hand. “It’s not a big deal,” he told her. At her horrified look, he gave a weak shrug, saying, “Okay, I think it’s time I explained a bit about the mutagen…” 

He had – a little bit. She knew the mutagen had, as the name implied, mutated him. Jocelyn had called it a rapid evolution; Mikey had called it a “super awesome thing”. But beyond that, no one had told her anything about it, not even where it came from. 

And so, nodding, Lisa wordlessly invited him to go on. For the sake of speed – her time was rapidly running out – she didn’t interrupt with questions, just letting him get to the meat of the explanation. 

Little by little, he outlined the mutagen’s benefits: it made them stronger, faster, more resilient, healthier, tougher, and more. According to him, Donnie had done experiments with it before, checking how the mutagen reacts to different cells and the unique ecosystems in each of the brothers’ bodies. The differences were pretty cool, he said; the mutagen specifically seemed to enhance their genetic weaknesses. 

In short, it made them all roughly equal in terms of ability by ramping up their weakest traits. From there the brothers had just focused on whatever skills they preferred – Leo had leaned towards flexibility and fluid motions, Mikey had gone with speed and musculature, Raph just plain worked out to build up his strength, and Donnie had focused mostly on his stamina. 

This had been going on since they were about seven or eight years old, Mikey told her. They’d always been playful, rowdy, reckless, and kind of rough with one another, but that’s when their official ninja training had begun. It’d been almost immediately obvious that they could handle whatever Splinter dished out – and then some – so their father had opted to make sure they were constantly challenged. 

Although Lisa still saw it as cruel, apparently that particular punishment Mikey had endured had ended up being fun for him. It was difficult to keep it up for as long as he had, but after a good rest he’d felt _great_. 

Still, she was angry about the whole thing. “Does he still do punishments like that?” she demanded. 

“Nah – well, sure, I guess, if we acted up,” he allowed, “but we haven’t done anything to deserve it since we were fifteen.” 

She hesitated to ask, but ventured, “And that last time, what’d he do?” 

Mikey was silent for a long moment, clearly deep in thought. Then he said, “Doesn’t matter.” 

Looking away and shaking her head, she snapped, “Not telling me just tells me it was really as bad as I’m thinking.” 

He blew out a sigh. “Look, can we not talk about this?” 

“Why, you don’t wanna talk bad about your dad?” she asked. 

“I’d _never_ talk bad about him,” he corrected, “and I don’t wanna hear it, either.” 

She gave that some consideration, then said, “So you’re seriously not pissed off? At all?” 

Shrugging, he returned, “Why would I be? It’s not like he ever gave us punishments that were too hard on us. Everything he made us do, we could handle.” 

Huffing, she snapped, “It isn’t about what you can handle, it’s about what’s excessive!” 

“You make it sound like it was abusive or something, but–”

“It _was!_ And the fact that you don’t see it–” 

“Dad _never_ hurt us!” he interrupted. 

“Oh, so you never got sore muscles?” she demanded. “Just because he never _hit_ you–”

“I’m done,” he cut in sharply, jumping up and striding away from her, tense. 

Well, _great_. She’d pissed him off. She harrumphed, angry, too. “I don’t get how you can just…not care,” she told him. “It sounds _horrible.”  
_

“It wasn’t that bad,” he returned, giving her a look over his shoulder. “We’re super tough mutants, Lisa. Do you get that? The same person could punch the both of us – you’d bruise, I wouldn’t,” he informed her. 

Shaking her head, she sighed, “That’s not my point. If you–you were tough enough to stop a train or so fragile a sheet of paper could break your bones, it doesn’t matter. You don’t deserve cruelty.” 

He seemed to take that in. Then, nodding, he said, “It was never cruel. Hard, yeah, but not ‘cruel’.”

Huffing, she demanded, “Then explain to me how what you’ve described _isn’t_ cruel.” 

“There was always a purpose,” he answered, and that was the one thing he could’ve said to shake her position. 

“Go on.” 

* * *

Well, this wasn’t a conversation Mikey had expected to have. Considering the subject was his father, his knee-jerk reaction was to yell and defend Splinter from any form of disrespect. Splinter had been a _phenomenal_ father; Lisa was just hearing the bad stuff, that’s all. For all that he’d been strict, his ways rigid, his punishments had never been anything but _helpful_. 

It was the genius of it all – and, wanting to get this through to his girlfriend, Mikey made sure to outline that: how Leo’s punishments had always been centered around balance and patience (leader training), how Raph’s had been about self-control (controlling his strength), Donnie’s had been reaction- and orientation-based (overwriting his overthinker nature), and Mikey…

Mikey’s punishments had always been designed to teach him how to be _still_. For someone with his boundless energy, that was critical. As a kid he’d had _incredible_ trouble keeping himself relaxed, had impulsively danced at the drop of a hat, tossed and turned all night in his sleep – hell, he’d often wiggled in place while seated. His legs and feet had _constantly_ been in motion. Learning to hold still was vital for him, especially because of the ninja part of his life but even more so because it was the only thing that’d kept him from jumping face-first into crowds of people on numerous occasions. 

Such an action would have put him – and his entire family – into unknown, likely _dangerous_ , territory. 

Of course, the full implications of these punishments had been lost on them at the time, but in the years following they’d come to realize the truth: Splinter was always, _always_ putting their well-being first, even when they thought they were just being punished. 

To her credit, Lisa quietly listened as Mikey explained all this, her eyes so focused he could tell she was taking in more than just his words – she was hearing his _heart_. And, at the end, as he stated, “Do you get it, now?” she nodded. 

“I can’t say I agree,” she replied, “but I understand.” 

Thinking back to how she’d mentioned hitting versus soreness, he said, “We were never _hurt_ from anything – well, not anything _Dad_ did,” he added, thoughtfully rubbing the scar on his chin. “We hurt each other all the time – usually on accident. Usually.” 

He couldn’t help grinning at where that thought went, recalling a few times he and his brothers had devolved into wrestling matches. The results were usually someone limping and all of them getting “teamwork” punishments – things like three of them having to hold up something heavy while the fourth was underneath it, having to trust his brothers to not drop it. 

What they hadn’t known at the time: there was always a safety net of some sort. If they _had_ dropped it – a stack of manhole covers, for example – no one would end up hurt from it. Splinter was brilliant like that, letting them believe that they _had_ to manage this feat, whatever it was, when in reality, no one had ever really been in any danger. 

And those particular events had damn well done their job: none of the brothers had intentionally injured another in years, now (not counting Raph’s most recent freak out, of course). 

As Mikey came out of his reverie, he found Lisa looked no happier. 

Thoughtful, she said, “I should say…the reason why this bothers me is cause I never thought physical punishments were necessary. I get that, in this case, it was more training than anything, but…” 

Understanding, he came back over to her, lifting her chin back up when she looked down at his approach. “You don’t believe my dad was right.” She shook her head. “…I get the impression you’ve never had to deal with four boys,” he joked weakly. 

“I have a brother of my own,” she reminded him. “Sam never acted out. Know why?” When he shook his head, she explained, “Because Mom was great at handling him. She didn’t need to raise a hand or even her voice, with either of us. Any time we did anything worth getting punished for, she’d just…question us. That was all it took.” 

Thinking that over, Mikey gave slow nods, seeing from her perspective. “To be fair,” he told her, “Dad never just went right to the _Hashi_ with us. He only went that far if we were being violent or wouldn’t answer him. Everything else he handled with words.” 

“That’s good,” she murmured, thoughtful. Then, head tilting, she asked, “What’s a hah-shee?” 

With a chuckle, he explained, “Well, the translation in Japanese is ‘chopsticks’, but in this case it refers to _hashiwokakero_ –”

“Hang on,” she laughed, interrupting him. “Ha-hashi-woko-ka– what?” 

“Ha-shi-woh-kah-kay-roh,” he sounded out for her, amused. She followed him, and after a few back-and-forths she got it. He was actually a little surprised she pronounced it right so quickly; he’d bet she’d never spoken a single word of Japanese in her life, and the language was _very_ confusing to the English tongue. 

Japanese required different emphasis and some sounds than English, making it an incredibly difficult language to learn. If not for the fact that he and his brothers had learned it growing up, Mikey doubted _he_ could have gotten it down at all. 

_“Hashiko– hashiwokakero,”_ Lisa pronounced carefully. 

“Right,” he agreed, grinning. He was proud of her. 

“So what’s that supposed to be?” 

“Officially? A logic puzzle,” he told her. “But we used it to mean…I guess you could say, ‘Difficult task’. The point is we didn’t _want_ to have to go there, so Dad would say stuff like, ‘One more word out of you, and you’re all going to the Hashi!’“ he declared, mimicking his father’s old, accented voice. 

Lisa giggled, amused. 

Glad that he got a laugh out of her, Mikey finished, “Instant silence. Like that,” he added with a finger snap. “He never even had to do it, either. We fell right in line as soon as he said the word ‘Hashi’. …Usually,” he chuckled, thinking of the first time they were caught having gone topside. “A few times we actually rallied and willingly went to the Hashi. All for one,” he grinned. 

Smiling, she replied, “I like that. The rallying, I mean.” 

“You and your bro ever do anything like that?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “We had no secrets. Not in _our_ house,” she laughed. “It was only a two-bedroom, so Sam and me shared a room with Mom.” 

He could imagine how cramped and invasive that could feel. It wasn’t so bad with him and his brothers – they had few possessions as it was and they were all guys, anyway – but sharing a room between a mother, a son, and a daughter? Yikes. 

“Bet that worked out well,” he commented dryly. 

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded, “just ask me about the time my brother failed to lock the door when he wanted some private time. That’s a memory I’ll never lose, no matter how much I wanna.” 

Laughing, Mikey replied, “Try living with four other guys in a home with no rooms at all. During puberty,” he added sharply. 

She sucked in a breath, wincing. “Ouch.” 

“Yep. We learned how to silently communicate when we had to go…out…for stuff pretty quick,” he informed her. 

Though he’d chosen his words carefully to avoid embarrassing her, it was apparently still just a little too much; Lisa glanced away, swinging her legs left and right. 

Ducking his head down a bit, he checked, “TMI?” 

She nodded. “Just a tad,” she agreed. 

Honestly, he found it a little ridiculous how easily she’d mentioned that event with her brother compared to how uncomfortable she got from _his_ similar story, but he admitted that hearing someone else’s tale wasn’t the same as giving your own. 

Now he just had to decide if he should work to avoid making her uncomfortable…or work to help her get over feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t really want her to change, but he also didn’t want her looking so awkward if he slipped up and said something he shouldn’t have. That was probably a conversation for a later date, though. 

Opting to swap to a better topic, he hopped back up onto the vent, asking, “So, what does your mom do?” 

“Clothing and costume designs,” she answered, giving a little smile that said how much she liked that. 

“Oh, cool,” Mikey approved. “Does she do stuff for, like, movies and stuff?” 

“No, nothing that big,” she chuckled. “But she _does_ accept a lot of commissions and whatever. Etsy stuff, mostly, but lately there’s been this really big boom in cosplay, so she makes outfits for that stuff, too.” 

That…wasn’t a word Mikey had heard before. “Cosplay?” he checked. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, it’s like, you know Comic Con?” she asked. At his nod, she explained, “Well, the people who show up in costume? That’s cosplay. Mom’s been getting a ton of commissions from people who wanna dress up, like as Wolverine and Wonder Woman and Doctor Who.” 

“The Doctor,” he automatically corrected. 

Confused, she intoned, “Uhh, what?” 

He chuckled. “Doctor Who. The main character is called The Doctor, not Doctor Who.” 

Brows drawn, she asked, “How do you even know that?” 

“Leo and Donnie are fans,” he told her. “Donnie slightly less so cause even though the show tickles his nerd brain, he says there’s a lot of inconsistencies with it. Leo says that’s just the writer’s fault and to ignore it. Donnie says it’s the writer’s job to be accurate. They fought over this a few times,” he informed her. 

She giggled. “I can see that.” 

Then, lowering his voice a little, Mikey murmured, “Sometimes I mess with ‘em. I once told Donnie that Leo told me that the fourth Doctor is the best one. Donnie thinks the tenth is the best, so that got him _bad_. He made a presentation on why Ten was superior to Four in every way and made Leo sit through it, and the whole time…Leo had this…this _look_ …” he laughed, having trouble continuing his story as memories resurfaced and humor took over. 

God, Leonardo had looked so _lost_ during that presentation – not in the information, but in the context. In his perspective, Donnie had come up with that display out of _nowhere_ , completely unprompted. 

Mikey had lost his _shit_ , watching that. He nearly did so now in remembrance, giggling like a fool as memory took hold. 

Lisa, on the other hand, obviously didn’t get it. She gave a tentative laugh, looking more confused than amused. Seeing that, he struggled to get his laughter under control again, clearing his throat once he did so. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, “that probably went right over your head.” 

“Like a zeppelin,” she deadpanned. 

He snorted. “Yeah, anyway…” he started, then paused as he thought back on what the hell they’d been talking about. Something about Doctor Who, clothes and costumes, Comic Con…  

Right, her mom!

“So, is your mom pretty good at costumes?” he asked now. 

Nodding, Lisa agreed, “Oh, yeah. When I was a kid she made most of the clothes Sam and me wore. T-shirts, jeans, even socks – we didn’t have a lot of new clothes. If she didn’t make it, we got it from Goodwill, thrift stores, or even shelters,” she told him. 

That was pretty sad, he thought. Sure, his family had been in the same boat, but the difference was that they were homeless and jobless. They didn’t have new stuff cause they couldn’t go topside and work for a day and buy something. Lisa’s mom was human and had a job. 

And yet, Lisa didn’t seem ashamed or dispirited. The way she explained her past was simply matter-of-fact. 

“As you can imagine, she got really good at it,” she was saying now. “A few years back Mom got commissioned for the first time – she works at a dry cleaning place, by the way,” she added quickly. “Anyway, that led to her getting a ton of extra work, and for a while Grandma and me helped her complete her orders. Mom even paid me for my help,” she said, grinning. 

“That’s awesome,” Mikey told her, happy for her. Gesturing her, he asked, “This stuff all looks new, so I take it those commissions are really good for you?” 

“Oh, definitely,” Lisa agreed, tugging on her outer, sleeveless hoodie. “We still clip coupons, use food stamps and sniff out sales, but this is new, yep.” And she looked so _happy_ about that, it made him feel giddy. 

Just like when April came into the mutants’ lives and started getting them gifts, the joy Mikey had felt upon receiving his first new, not-a-cast-off pair of shorts and shoes he didn’t have to sew together…he saw it now on Lisa’s face. And he was truly impressed. 

April was an official news anchor now, sitting behind a desk for Channel 6 and giving daily news reports – only occasionally returning to her journalist roots and going out into the field – and it paid her phenomenally well. She could afford several apartments if she wanted to; buying stuff for Mikey and his family was a drop in the bucket. 

But Lisa’s family? They were still fighting, earning every last cent they owned through hard work. Lisa’s mother, especially, sounded tough as nails. Comparing their situations, everything Lisa owned had been fought for – everything Mikey owned had been given to him. Both were rewards, yes, but it was clear that Lisa had worked harder for hers. 

It made him all the happier for her. 

Excited now, she extended a leg, pointing at her shoe. “I got these last year,” she told him, grinning. “I always wanted Converse but they’re so expensive and impossible to find at thrift stores. These were on sale, too, but they were _new!_ “ _  
_

Pleased that she was so pleased, Mikey did the same, pointing at his own sneakers. “Got these for Christmas last year,” he told her. “April got ‘em. She had to take a drawing of my foot out to get the right kind of build and size, though.” Then, drawing up his foot to his knee so she could see the bottom of his shoe – where the size was circled on bottom – he said, “Eighteen and a half.” 

Lisa choked on a laugh, covering her mouth. “Holy shit, you gotta be kidding me,” she declared, drawing up her own foot to compare their feet sizes. 

His dwarfed hers. 

“Okay, shut up,” she said, giggling. “How freaking big are your feet?!” 

Grinning, he confessed, “Thirteen and a half inches.” 

Patting at her chest, she forced out, “Jesus…Christ…that’s, like…” 

He had to swallow a comment then – the one about men and their shoe sizes, specifically. Instead, he replied, “Huge, I know. I match Leo, but Donnie and Raph’s feet are even bigger. April has to special-order our shoes,” he told Lisa. “Shoes this size just aren’t carried anywhere.” 

And he felt weirdly proud of that. 

Then Lisa gave him this amused, tilted-head look, and he blurted, “What? Is my fly down?” 

She snorted. “No. I was just thinking…I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone this easy to talk to before. I mean we jumped between, what, like a thousand subjects just now?” 

“A thousand and twenty-seven, by my count,” he quipped. 

She snickered. “And it was just…so easy.” She glanced away then, biting her lip, and Mikey felt a very particular _thud-thud_ in his chest. 

She. Was. So. Cute! 

And when she blindly slid her hand over and took his, it took everything he had to not physically swoon. Instead, he lifted her hand up to kiss her fingers – and Lisa squirmed, grinning wide. At once, butterflies took flight in his belly. 

Then she scooted over and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and he just about died. Lucky for her, he was really hard to kill. Rather than flop over, dead, he looped his arms around her, giving her (what he hoped was) a warm, comfortable embrace. 

“Thank you,” she murmured. 

As much as he loved being thanked for things, he wasn’t sure what he did this time. He ventured, “For what?” 

Bringing her hands up to hang onto his arm, she answered, “For giving me a second chance. I really regret ever turning you down–” 

“Hey,” he interrupted softly, “what’d I say? Forget about that. Never happened.” 

So he said, but even now a part of his mind was focused on the memory of her taste, the feel of her tongue stud, the quiet but pleased sounds she’d made as they made out. And he so, so badly wanted a repeat of that – now that he had a little bit of experience under his belt, he might even be able to make it better than before. 

He hoped she’d give him the chance before the night was over. 

Now she gave a soft hum, agreeing, “You’re right. I just…I’m having a hard time letting go of the guilt, you know?” 

“I get it,” he assured her. “I guess the only thing we can do now is give you even better feelings to erase the bad ones. I’m thinking something along the lines of a nice, slow makeout session.” 

She clucked her tongue. “You flirting with me, Mikey?” 

“Hardcore,” he promised. 

She giggled. “Okay, then,” she said, straightening up and smiling at him, “show me.” 

Oh, _hell_ yes.


	10. Date 1: Complete, Date 2: Initializing

**Rating:** R (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Making out with Lisa was Mikey’s favorite activity, bar _none_. It was better than practicing with his nunchaku, better than playing video games – better than skateboarding! Which, honestly, made a lot of sense; his skateboard couldn’t hum and moan, his nunchaku didn’t smell divine, and his video games weren’t warm and soft to the touch.

Only Lisa responded so sweetly. Only Lisa delighted his senses like this. Only Lisa could make him feel this good, like he was dying and coming alive at the same time.

Only Lisa.

Her kiss was _incredible_ , from the texture to the flavor to her every tiny action. It was pretty clear that she didn’t have much more experience than he did in this field, and it both thrilled and annoyed him – amazing girl like her? She should’ve had some damn good mackings by now, but instead…instead, she’d had to deal with creeps and bullies.

Oh well, then. That just meant they got to learn this together. To be honest, he was perfectly happy with that; figuring out what little things made her twitch and gasp was a hell of a lot of fun. She wasn’t quite as animated in returning the favor, he discovered, but that was fine. She was skittish, that was all.

He could feel that she was holding back, too shy to act on her impulses. He so badly wanted to help with that, though he knew better than to say anything about it – not yet, at least.

Besides, he’d promised a slow makeout session, going at her speed and no faster. He’d hold to that if it killed him.

Which, he admitted, it just might.

Between her tiny, soft fingers ghosting along his neck and cheeks, her sweet lips following his lead, and the tiny, gasping breaths she gave whenever he did something right, he was honestly surprised he hadn’t died yet. And it made him wonder if she was feeling the same thing – like she wanted more but had no idea how much she could take.

That thought made Mikey withdraw a little, breaking the kiss to check, “Lisa? …You good?”

It took her a moment to respond. At first she was just sitting there with her eyes closed, a deep blush across her cheeks, looking content.

The sight filled him with a swarm of especially hyperactive butterflies (the most epic and energetic of butterflies).

Then, clearing her throat, she nodded, blinking her eyes open as if she’d just woken from a spell. She lifted a hand to her mouth, half-covering her lips and smiling to herself.

“I’m good,” she murmured towards the ground, pleased. 

How could anyone have resisted the urge to kiss her then? She was so shy and adorable and – ugh! 

Eager, impatient Mikey couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, cupping her cheek to draw her face back up. Then, pulling her hand away from her mouth, he leaned in again, stroking his thumb over her cheek as he gave her a firmer, needier kiss than before.

The way she met his kiss – showing just as much desire as he felt right then – convinced him to try for more. He parted his lips – slowly, trying to lead her – and a heady thrill went through him as he felt her follow. Heart pounding and cautious, not wanting to mess this up, he gave a few test kisses. Each one brought them closer and closer to his goal, and after a few of these he went for it, easing his tongue into her mouth.

And she freaking met him halfway. He couldn’t help giving the single most unmanly squeak of his life, the involuntary sound a direct result of how incredibly thrilled he was right then. To his mounting delight, Lisa made a similar noise – though her sound was more of a soft ‘ah’ than his (embarrassing) sharp ‘eek’.

As much as Mikey wanted to just give in to his desires and mack on her for the rest of forever, he struggled to keep up a measure of self-control. He kept reminding himself of his promise to keep it slow, forcing himself to remain steady for her. Not an easy task, by far – but one, he was learning, that was extremely rewarding.

Until now, he’d never thought that slow frenching could feel so good. Each slow swipe of their tongues was paired with delicious sensation – not to mention her _taste!_ Yeah, sure, right now she tasted more like Orange Crush than herself, but her own flavor was still there and both seemed to enhance the other. It was immediately his new favorite flavor of all time. 

It was arousing as hell, kissing her. The hardest thing was steadily becoming resisting the urge to act on his desires, to keep his hands from wandering to more intimate areas on her body. He so badly wanted to bring her closer, to bring her into his lap and explore her body…but he couldn’t. 

Not yet. 

Lucky for him, then, this sweet torture didn’t last much longer; a few minutes in they were interrupted by her phone starting to play a tune. 

Mikey broke the kiss to give the object an annoyed glare, seated on the vent on her opposite side. Lisa, on the other hand, ducked her head with a grin, once again lifting a hand to her mouth, pressing the backs of her fingers to her lips. 

It was _so_ cute. 

When she didn’t grab for the phone, though, he got curious. “Don’t need to answer that?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “It’s an alarm. I set it so I knew when I’d have to go home.” Biting her lip – sweet god above, that was adorable – she told him, “I figured I’d lose track of time, so…” 

…she’d set an alarm to remind her. Clever. 

Still, he was sad to realize she had to go home now. He’d been having a great time – they’d learned a lot about each other, played around and danced, _and_ had (in his professional opinion) a _really great makeout session._

Like, seriously, he was going to be tasting her all night. And honestly, that was the best parting gift she could’ve given him. 

Lisa reached over and turned off the alarm, then hopped off the vent to stretch. She made such a pretty picture like that, too, he thought; back arched and fingers linked, standing up on her toes. It really put into perspective what lovely proportions she had – until now he’d thought Jocelyn had the longest legs he’d ever beheld. 

But now he was thinking Lisa had her beat. God, he felt lucky. 

…Though he was a little less lucky right then, knowing he had to say goodbye. That is, unless…

Suddenly she turned around, rushing out, “Do you wanna–”

At the same time, he was saying, “D’you think I could–” 

They stopped, then broke down into giggles. 

“Go ahead,” he offered, gesturing her. 

Nodding, she asked, “Do you wanna walk me home?” 

Oh, _hell_ yes, he did. With a wide-armed gesture, he declared, “That’s what I was gonna ask _you!”_

Giggling, she replied, “W-well, then I guess I know your answer…” 

“Hell yeah,” he confirmed with a nod, pushing to his feet. Then he grabbed her backpack from its place under the vent and handed it to her. Next was her duffel bag, but when she reached for it he just slung it over his shoulder. 

Glancing down at her feet with a grin, she said, “You don’t hafta carry that for me, you know.” 

“I know,” he agreed. Then, joking with her, he posed, saying, “Just thought I could show off my beautiful brawn a little.” When he flexed an arm, making his biceps bulge, Lisa chuckled and shoved him, walking past him. 

But he _totally_ caught her biting her lip again and it gave him a little, hungry thrill. She didn’t just _like_ him, he now knew – she was _attracted_ to him. Truth be told, he’d been worried about that; _he_ thought he was pretty damn sexy, but he hadn’t been willing to bet on Lisa sharing his opinion. 

Knowing she agreed with him, making their attraction mutual (cause god _damn_ she looked like an orange creme popsicle on a hot day), gave him the strongest urge to thank her any way he could. 

He opted to jog up to her as she approached the fire escape, catch her by the arm, tug her around, and give her a nice, sweet kiss. There was the cutest little surprised squeak from her as he caught her lips, and that just made it even better. 

He loved those sounds she made. 

Then, playing it off, he broke the kiss, winked, and hopped up onto the edge of the building. Extending a hand to her, he asked, “Help you down?” 

Tilting her head, she came closer and glanced over the edge. “Fire escape’s over here,” she pointed out. 

It was around five feet to his right, yeah. He knew that. “I know,” he told her. “Come on. D’you trust me?” 

She didn’t even _hesitate_. Grinning, she answered, “Yeah.” Eyes fixed on him, stepped up onto the lip of the building with him, taking his hand as she went. 

For a moment he felt totally overwhelmed. She’d stepped right up against him, linking her arms around his neck like it was nothing. That faith, that absolute trust, hit him _hard_. Now that he knew he had it, though, he was all the more determined to _earn_ it. 

Securing an arm around her waist, he directed, “Do whatever I tell you, okay?” For her own safety, she had to move how he needed her to, no resisting or fighting. 

And Lisa just nodded, no fear or suspicion in her eyes. No, the only thing he saw there was _excitement_. She was looking forward to his brand of traveling and, god, it was entirely too much. 

This whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing was a lot more intense than he’d been expecting, and considering how much he’d worshiped the very idea of being in a relationship, that was saying something. 

Wasting no more time – Lisa was on a schedule, after all – Mikey leaned back, starting the relatively short plummet to the ground. Falls like this were nothing to him, but as he twisted on the way down he found it was still something to _her_. Landing in a crouch with his girlfriend in his arms, she was a laughing mess, clinging to him. 

The sight and feel of her had him locked in stun for a moment, admiring her. And that’s when he knew, without a doubt, that this was _different_. 

He’d had girls in his arms before, for all kinds of reasons. Carrying, protecting, traveling, comforting, giving affection – yet none of those events could match _this_ one. Not even the time he’d carried her through the sewers matched this moment. 

As Lisa extricated herself from him, grinning and still chuckling, he thought, _Is this love?_

He hoped so. It made his heart feel funny, almost like he was constantly being tickled, and he actually enjoyed that sensation. If anything, that feeling made him want more of it. 

All of his various crushes over the years – both for girls he knew in person and celebrities he’d found sexy as hell – paled in comparison to _her_ , to how his stomach flipped and pulse quivered at the very idea of touching her. 

God, please let it be love. 

* * *

Mikey was the _best_ , Lisa thought. He made everything so damn fun! Granted, she’d always been something of a thrill-seeker – roller coasters were some of her favorite things, after all – but he managed to make free-falling a completely fearless activity. 

She’d _never_ have been able to take a fall like that without him there, without his arms around her. There was just no way she’d have been able to make a three-story leap by herself. 

But with Mikey, all she’d felt was a delicious rush. Once she shook that off, though, they’d started off. She asked him if there were any “waterslides” between here and her home via the sewers – both because it was faster, giving them more time to hang out, and because, yeah, she wanted a repeat of their first trip, not gonna lie – but, alas, there weren’t. 

They still hopped into the sewers anyway, though, given it was way easier for him to move around there. And when he offered to take her back via his board, confused, she asked how they could do that if they were in the _sewers_. 

“It’s mostly clear,” he told her then. “Whole way’s basically one big, open half-pipe.” 

Oh, _snap!  
_

Unable to help herself, she had him hold on while she got her rollerblades on. Then, energy flooding back to her despite how exhausted she’d been not too long ago, they took off. She was careful to avoid the thin streams in the center of the circular tunnels, even as she couldn’t help showing off a bit. 

She wasn’t very good with skateboards, but she’d been on rollerblades since she was six or seven years old. She had _no_ trouble with pulling tricks and twists as they went. 

Every so often they ran into some form of obstacle, though, and Mikey was quick to yank her up into his arms so it couldn’t trip her. And the little flirt winked at her _every_ time, successfully making her giggle and blush in the process. Then she was right back on her feet, keeping up with little difficulty – though she admitted that was probably because he was opting not to leave her in the dust. 

And while she quite enjoyed showing off for him, she just couldn’t match _his_ brand of flaunting; she gave up even trying when he went backwards off a ramp into a flip and 180 to land facing forward again. 

Yep. She could do a lot, but she couldn’t do _that_. 

Rather than put her off, though, seeing him show off like that just made her happy. She got the impression he never really could before – like he’d always yearned to be watched and cheered, but with three brothers just as equally talented as he was…

Well, _they_ weren’t going to be impressed, that was for sure. With all four of the brothers together, too, any attention he’d get would be divided between them, leaving his poor, needy heart unfulfilled. 

Lucky for him, then, that Lisa found him _way_ more interesting than his brothers. She got the feeling that all four of them could be posturing side by side and her eyes would just keep getting drawn back to Mikey regardless of what the others were doing. 

She couldn’t help it. He was so cool, so flashy, so _magnetic_. Every time he glanced back at her, his blue eyes seeming to need to confirm she was still watching him, her heart skipped a beat. He was so freaking adorable! 

And, holy sweet Jesus, he was _her_ boyfriend! _Hers!_

She could have screamed. 

Soon enough the fun part was over, though, and then they had to stop. This being the third time he brought her home this way, she was starting to recognize it: a particular grate nearby, a single red brick on the ground, the way one of the ladder’s rungs was dented as if something heavy had dropped on it. 

Now, as she hung onto the ladder with one hand and swayed back and forth, she asked, “Same time tomorrow?” 

Grinning, he ducked his head, then confessed, “I would totally be there, but…we got patrol tomorrow night.” Wincing, he ventured, “Thursday?” 

“I can do Thursday,” she nodded. “Might have a job by then, though.” 

Excited by that, he prompted, “Yeah? Where?” 

She relayed the name and crossroads, then explained, “Music store. I mean, obviously,” she chuckled; even if the name hadn’t been _Gil’s Records Till Now_ , where else would she work? “Anyway, they have a slogan that they can find any song from any era. Gil, the owner? He grilled me on songs as part of the interview, making sure I know my stuff.” 

As she spoke, Mikey had steadily inched closer, as if it were unconscious on his part. Now hanging onto the ladder like she was, his hand just above hers, he asked, “Do you? How good are you at it?” 

She scoffed. “I’m the ace, baby boy.” 

He grinned at the nickname. 

“Seriously,” she pressed, “try me.” 

“Hip hop, alt rock, metal?” he checked. 

“Any and all, 80s till now. Gimme me a bassline, a tune, a beat, a line; I got it,” she promised him. 

He thought that over, then said, “Mony Mony.” 

She snorted. “How about you give me something harder than a well-known song title? Billy Idol, _Mony Mony_ , 1981. Single.” 

Looking pleased with her, he started a _real_ quiz. At first he gave her lyrics from increasingly rare songs, then venturing into tunes when that proved too easy. It got harder from then on out, she admitted, but that was largely because he kept messing up the tunes. 

Lisa had to correct him a few times, sometimes having to pull up the song on her YouTube app to have him listen to it. 

“Don’t feel bad,” she told him after the third time she’d had to do this – Mikey was currently leaning his head into the ladder, looking ashamed. “I’m just the master at this. I’ve had to correct everyone I know at some point, even other DJs.” 

He glanced up at that, giving her a smile. “You’re seriously, like, an encyclopedia of music.” 

Holding up a finger, she hedged, “Only from the 80s up. Everything before then, who knows? I might know the song, but probably not.” 

“You’re gonna kill it at that job,” he told her. 

She grinned. “I hope so. It seems like a great place to work, y’know? Pays pretty well, too. Between this and Sam’s job, we should be pretty safe now. No need to worry about money.” 

“What about your Mom?” he checked, concerned. 

Touched, she explained, “Remember how I said they lived in a house?” When he nodded, she went on, “My grandparents got that place when my mom was a newborn. They finished paying it off two years ago, and Grandpa still works, so between him and Mom they’ve got it covered. We’re all good, now that Sam and me can work, too.” 

Smiling, Mikey said, “That’s good. I’m happy for you. And your family,” he added quickly, as if he feared she’d think him insincere if he didn’t include her family. 

He was _so_ sweet, she thought, and it drew her in. Stepping closer, she popped up onto her toes and gave him a kiss; he met her halfway with an outpouring of enthusiasm, his free arm holding her against him. 

Unsure what to do with her own free hand, she eventually settled it on his side – and he _immediately_ started making that sound again, that weird purring. _Churring_ , he’d called it? 

Giggling, she broke the kiss, still so giddy over that sound that she couldn’t focus on the kiss while hearing it. Bringing her hands to his neck, feeling the vibrations as they started to fade, she said, “That’s seriously the craziest thing.” 

It wasn’t until after she spoke that she realized how insulting that statement could sound. Wincing a little, she glanced up, but found Mikey giving her a lopsided grin, head tilted. 

Hesitant, she ventured, “I didn’t mean for that to sound mean.” 

“It didn’t,” he assured her with a little shake of his head. “I know what you meant.” 

That was good, because, honestly….Lisa was clumsy at best with words. She didn’t want to offend anyone, but it happened pretty frequently regardless of her intent. She’d learned to keep her mouth shut most of the time as a result. 

Yet Mikey got her talking. A lot. She wasn’t exaggerating when she said he was the easiest person to talk with. 

Silence descended, the pair just smiling at each other, a little awkward. Lisa was scrambling for something else to say, but before she could, he was backing up a step. 

“So…I’d love to stay here with you all night,” he told her, “but your brother’s waiting for you, right?” 

Her spirits fell. “Yeah,” she sighed. 

“Hey, chin up,” he said, chucking her chin and drawing a laugh out of her. “Thursday, right? This time, I’ll bring the snacks,” he winked. 

Just like that, the joy returned, her heart giving the weirdest little tickling flutters. She gave a thoughtful expression, then said, “My favorite drink is Sunny D and favorite snack is sour gummy worms.” 

He clapped his hands once in a slow, exaggerated manner, then told her, “You got it.” 

* * *

_“Raph!!”_

The bellowing yell echoed through the Lair as Mikey darted through one of the entrances on his board, determined to find and talk to his brother regardless of where the older boy was at the moment. 

“Mikey!” came an annoyed return yell from the kitchen. 

Hurrying that way, Mikey spotted Raphael in the middle of devouring an extra-large sub sandwich. From his reclined position, ankles crossed on the railing, he could see the TV from here despite its distance from his spot. 

Giving him a look, Raph asked, “Sup?” 

Mikey practically hopped to a chair, super energetic after his first official date. Straddling it, arms crossed over the high back, he demanded, “I need your help.” 

“Surprise of surprises,” Raph intoned. 

“Fuck off,” Mikey snapped, in no mood to deal with teasing right then. Though Raph gave him an almost shocked look, Mikey went on, “I wanna take Lisa on a date on Thursday. How’d you set up your stuff with Jo?” 

Raph regarded him with surprise for a moment, then set his sandwich aside, sat upright, swallowed his bite, and began, “Well, first, ya need a place. Where you wanna go?” 

Mikey instantly drew a blank. “…Uhh…” was his brilliant response. 

Grinning, Raph hung his head, amused. Then, looking up again, he said, “What’s something she likes?” 

_That_ was easy. “She likes music.” 

“Any particular bands?” 

She’d mentioned a bunch of them over the course of the night – Muse, Beyonce, Linkin Park, Pussycat Dolls, Aerosmith and OutKast, to name a few. He hedged, “Just about _every_ band, actually.” 

Nodding, Raph hooked his thumb at Donnie’s computer alcove. “Go check and see if there’s any concerts on Thursday, then.” 

_Brilliant!_ Mikey jumped up from his seat, gave Raph a grateful pat on the shoulder, and leaped right over the waterway by kicking off the railing. Donnie was nowhere in sight, so Mikey just went for it, selecting one of the monitors for his search. 

_Score!_ Beyonce and Jay-Z were scheduled for that day! It was too perfect, like the stars had aligned just for him. 

He memorized the date and time, then the location, and finally headed out. He had to check the security in person to make sure he had a good way in, after all. 

An hour later, he’d scoped out the building. Being a stadium, he couldn’t just drop them on top of the show. And it was a little harder to move around inside the place, but luckily their destination was easy to work out: four extremely large television sets were always set up there, and the inside of them was somewhat dangerous but totally enclosed. 

Perfect. All he had to do was pick the correct one, the one that would give them the best view of the stage (which was already set up and waiting on the field) and tada, instant VIP viewing area! 

By the time he made it back home, he was excited as hell – and, he soon learned, Leo was kind of pissed that he’d just taken off without a word. Whoops, haha…

After sitting through some reprimanding – Mikey accepted it, considering he should’ve at least talked to Raph about this before leaving – he went to his room. Not because he was tired, but because he wanted to text Lisa, see if she was still up. 

It was almost 2 a.m., so he assumed not, but still. 

He actually found three texts from her waiting for him: 

[i had a great time, even with your bros annoying us, lol 🤣]

[can’t wait to see you again 😘]

[alright, i’m off to bed. good night, mikey! see you thursday! 💤 😊]

Darn, he missed her. But he was happy she’d sent him some texts first. It gave him one last smile to carry him into bed. 

First, though…well, he started going over the events of the night and got caught up remembering when they’d made out. God, thinking about it was so damn thrilling, and recalling her exact flavor and how she’d felt…it was potent. In no time he was aroused to the point of no return. 

So he did the only logical thing: he closed his eyes, pictured his lovely girlfriend, recalled her scent, focused on her taste, and pleasured himself. 

And it…was… _great!_ He was kind of surprised, actually; the resulting orgasm had easily been one of his most intense, and he’d just had _thoughts_ to help it along! No video, no audio, no watching a couple of lesbians getting it on as they moaned and gasped…just thoughts of his lovely Lisa. 

It left him kind of ravenous – excited by the prospect of what might be. Like, what would it be like to have _her_ pleasure him? What would it be like to pleasure her, instead? God, if those ended up better than ‘great’, then what would _sex_ be like? 

He was so eager to find out that he had to remind himself they were nowhere _near_ that point in their relationship yet. That was fine, though; as long as she let him keep kissing her, he had all he needed to settle his own urges. Her taste was enough to tip him over the edge any time he neared it, he was sure. 

For now.


	11. Let's Have Fun

**Rating:** PG (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

As soon as Lisa made it home, calling out her presence to her brother (he gave a vague “yeah, hey” from his room, distracted), she went right to her bedroom and flopped on the bed. She felt _amazing_ – better than she had _ever_ felt, she thought – and it put a huge grin on her face. Mikey made her so happy, it was _insane_. 

Going over the events of the night, even the less-than-happy ones, just confirmed it: he was _amazing_ and she was so lucky to have caught him. He was even – _squeal_ – teaching her how great making out could be, something her own experiences had suggested was annoying at best for the girl involved. 

But, then, there was a big difference between having a guy shove his tongue into her mouth and a guy gently coaxing _hers_ into _his_. Mikey had been incredible, giving her no more than she could take and even pausing at one point to check on her. 

Just _remembering_ that had her heart doing somersaults. How did he just seem to _know_ what she needed? _A nice, slow makeout session,_ he’d said. _Damn_ if that hadn’t been just the right thing for her, and damn _twice_ if he hadn’t managed to hold to it _perfectly_. 

…Not to mention his kisses had been incredible, leaving her lips tingly and warm long after they’d parted.

It was crazy, really – she was more than a little needy, her natural affections having been bottled up for the entirety of her life (so far), and she could feel that Mikey was the same. They both wanted so much…to give, to receive, to share…and yet, for all that want, they were keeping chill about it. 

Then again, their relationship was still _very_ new, too. Today had technically been their third night together. Even so, she was grateful that he was being gentle and cautious with her; she could tell just from how he touched her while kissing that he wanted so much more of her, yet he held back. 

It made her all the more certain that he was trustworthy, that she could put her faith in him. And it made her think that…just maybe…he could _help_ her. As someone who hated her natural body so much but could do nothing about it (it wasn’t like she’d ever save up enough money for plastic surgery), her only option left was to get over it. But she couldn’t do that on her own – her mind kept returning to all the harsh comments, accusations, insults and unwanted touching she’d suffered since she was _twelve_. 

All because she’d matured early. 

Thinking of that, she decided to give herself a look-see – something she did sparingly these days, for two reasons in particular – and see if she couldn’t find a way to dig up some courage. Easier said than done, that. 

To that end, she opened her closet door (revealing the full-length mirror on the inside), and started peeling off layers of clothing. First her two hoodies, then her shirt and binder, and finally her shorts. Left in nothing but her underwear and shoes, she hesitantly raised her gaze to the mirror. 

Her reflection showed a timid girl with vibrant dyed hair, every inch of her uncomfortable, with heavy breasts in a sports bra, standing there with her arms crossed and hands over her forearms. With difficulty, she forced her arm to drop and twist, revealing the criss-crossing scars on her left arm. 

“This is you,” she whispered to herself, trying to muscle past the pain. Looking down at her own scarred flesh, she thought, _If you really want to give this a chance, this is who he’s going to meet.  
_

This is who he was going to _see_ someday. Maybe it wouldn’t be today, tomorrow, Thursday, or a month from now…but someday. And on that day, she was going to have to face her fears. She was going to have to open up, to talk, and to struggle through what she already knew was going to be _mountains_ of horror and sorrow from her boyfriend. 

She was hiding two secrets every time she left this apartment – her exceptionally large breasts, and her self-harm scars. One secret was because she hated her body, and the other because she hated what she’d _done_ to her body because of her hate. 

Luckily she’d been discovered and stopped early into that compulsion – the cutting – and she’d had enough foresight to keep them close to her elbow. They were easy to hide like that, no chance of accidentally flashing them as long as she kept wearing long-sleeve tops. 

But she was so, _so_ ashamed of herself for ever having done it to begin with. Sure, it wasn’t entirely her fault – just recalling the abuse she’d suffered made her fingers itch to hold a knife or pair of scissors – yet, in a way, it was _all her fault_. There were so many other options, so many things she could’ve done… 

Not that it mattered anymore. She’d harmed herself to escape the pain; now she had to live with the consequences. 

With the support of her family, she’d overcome her bloody compulsion. With the support of Mikey, she hoped she’d overcome her self-hatred, too. 

She was just so scared of how he was going to react… 

Leaving that train of thought behind – and more than a little disgusted by her reflection – she shut her closet door and, sighing, tossed herself on her bed. That’d been difficult, to say the least, and she’d barely looked at herself for a minute. God, if it was that hard just to look at _herself_ , how hard was it going to be to let _Mikey_ see her? 

Groaning, she rolled over to her stomach and snatched up her phone, opting to distract herself with apps and games. 

She was partway through a level of Geometry Dash, enjoying the music more than the gameplay to be honest, when she got a text from her beau. Game forgotten, she swapped right to it. 

[got a surprise for you! 😜 😘]

Oh, really? Grinning, her mood lifting already, she texted him back, [yeah? gonna keep me waiting boy? 👀 👀 👀]

His response: [yup! just be perpared for 🎶🎵 ❕ 🧡 🧡 🧡]

Music? Grinning, she wondered what he was up to – then told herself not to think on it too much. It’d ruin the surprise. 

[thursday?] she sent back, checking to at least know if this was part of their next date. 

[yup!! might get really hot 🔥 tho, so dress light ok? 👗 👀 👌 👌]

Oh, god. Dress _light?_ And why did he send the dress emote, did he actually want her to wear one? She only owned two such articles – technically one, as the other was a skirt she’d literally never worn – and she was _not_ fond of them. 

Choosing her words carefully, she sent back, [do i really gotta wear a dress tho? 😅 😶]

[corse not lol, just wear somthing comfy 😊 👍] 

Oh, thank god. Relieved, she relaxed, exhaling a shaky breath. The idea of going on a date – in a dress – was less than calming for her. The last time she’d done so had resulted in what was easily the worst date of her life, and she _really_ didn’t want that memory tainting a night with Mikey. 

Their texts continued for a while, devolving into jokes and quips that made her giggle and send back a bunch of laughing emojis. It was so much fun, so distracting, that she didn’t realize how tired she’d become until she found herself waking up to the sound of her alarm going off. 

At first she reached for her bedside table, only to find her phone wasn’t there. It took her a moment to deduce what’d happened: she’d fallen asleep with the phone still in her hand, and somehow it’d migrated under the covers. Haha, whoops, she thought, digging it out. 

After turning off the alarm, she checked the texts. Grinning and wincing, she saw that her poor boyfriend had sent her six texts before realizing she’d fallen asleep and wishing her good night. One of them was him asking if he’d said something wrong and asking her not to be mad at him. 

Though he was probably asleep, too, she hurried to send him an apology, assuring him that she wasn’t angry. She’d just passed out. 

Her last text was a firm, [i could never be mad at you, baby boy 😊 🧡] 

Sending that little orange heart, though, had been _hard_ , like she was confirming what she was already starting to suspect: she was _totally_ falling for him. She’d bet he was going to do a literal flip when he noticed she’d intentionally picked the orange one. 

Once she’d dressed in loose shorts and a t-shirt, she went out into the living room. A box of donuts sat on the kitchen counter, Sam reclined on the couch as he devoured his breakfast – a creme-filled glazed donut in hand. 

“Hey, bro,” she greeted as she snagged a few of her own. 

The news was on, but Sam had muted the TV with the captions on – how he preferred to get the news delivered. 

“Hey, Lise,” he replied absently. Then, side-eying her as she happily plucked up a few lemon-filled donuts (he knew her so well), he commented, “You’re happy this morning.” 

She was usually pretty upbeat, but that event with Mikey last month had left her pretty bummed until…well, the day before yesterday. She hadn’t informed her brother why, though, hedging only that she’d made a mess with a friend. Now, however, all that was over with and she was more chipper than she’d been in… _ever_. 

Not even bothering to hide it, she plopped down on the couch beside him, saying, “Yep! Finally fixed that mess I’d made, so everything’s better now.” 

Sam gave her a little, pleased smile. “Good to know,” he said, fluffing her hair. 

Shoving his hand away (and discovering, in the process, that bed head had struck once again; half her head was flat, her hair sticking up in all directions), she chided, “Hey, it took me _all night_ to get these fancy locks, don’t mess ‘em up.” 

“Oh, wow, the whole night?” he teased. “I can tell.” 

“I know, right? It’s _amaze_ ,” she said, running her fingers through her (clumpy) hair. 

Chuckling, he turned his attention back to the TV. 

He was a great person, her brother. He’d gone out of his way to hunt down and punish a lot of the boys who’d pressured or hurt her over the years, and he’d never once hit or abused her. According to their mother, from before she was even born he’d taken the role of ‘brother’ to mean ‘guardian’ and had been incredibly defensive of her. Lisa had been told he’d gone so far as to be their mother’s personal slave until Lisa had been born. 

Then he’d turned that steadfast loyalty to Lisa, herself. She could vaguely recall that he’d always held her hand whenever they went anywhere until she was old enough to start refusing, and even then he’d just shifted to keeping an arm around her shoulders instead. 

The ultimate protector, as it were. 

He was a brunet with blue eyes, just like her, leaving their relation undeniable. They even had the same sharp noses and pointy chins, the same dimples. He just didn’t dye his hair, and he was a little overdue for a haircut, the locks starting to fall into his eyes. 

Honestly, the two of them could’ve passed for twins, she thought. They were the same height – a measly five-seven, to be honest; god she felt short – on top of their similar features. As a kid she’d wanted to dress up as twins for Halloween but Sam had never agreed. 

He didn’t mind holding her hand in public, but he staunchly refused to dress identically. And, as an adult, she was glad he’d refused. That would’ve made for some really embarrassing stories. 

“Not going into work today?” she checked, realizing it was past nine. 

Sam shrugged. “Dave’s late, and he has the keys,” he told her. “Can’t get in till he’s there, so…” 

“Ah,” she nodded. “Waiting on him to let you know when he’s there?” 

“Yep. So,” he started, giving her more attention, “how’s your latest mix going?” 

He didn’t really understand DJing, but he’d always invited her to talk about it anyway. Great guy, her brother… 

“Almost done,” she informed him. “I wanna swap out _Irresistible_ with _Jungle_ –” 

“X Ambassadors?” he checked. 

“Yeah, and Fall Out Boy,” she nodded. “But it’s gonna need to get rearranged a bit to do it, so I’m looking at…maybe three hours to get everything lined up again.” 

“All that for a beat?” he asked, brow arching. 

“Hey,” she defended, “never underestimate the power of a strong beat. Besides, _Jungle’s_ bassline is _hella_ good,” she informed him. “Gonna add a lot of power to the second half.” 

“Yeah? Expecting the crowd to start going crazy or something?” 

“Oh, bro, you have _no_ idea,” she chuckled. “I’ve seen whole dance floors fall into sync and start jumping in place and stomping their feet. _That’s_ when you know you done good,” she informed him, pleased. 

Shaking his head, Sam commented, “Yep, I have no idea. But I’m glad it makes you happy,” he added, nudging her with his elbow. 

Smiling, she told him, “You should come to my next show. Then maybe you’ll get it.” 

“Have one scheduled?” he asked. 

“Not yet. But I have, like, six return customers,” she informed him. 

_Six_ clubs that liked her tunes enough to occasionally send her an invite. She’d been playing for one of them since she was sixteen – her very first live event, playing her second-ever mix. 

They didn’t need her often, a young, female freelancer, but she always burned it up when she was called in. The crowds were starting to recognize her, and she was surprised but pleased when she first heard them start to chant “DJ Diva” when she climbed up to the booth. 

She hadn’t prompted that, so suffice to say she was _seriously_ humbled by it. 

Then, thoughtful, Sam offered, “What about _[The Greatest Showman?”](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DNyVYXRD1Ans&t=MTQ2NTA2MzE1ZTlhMWY1MGUyNzNmYTQwOTkxMzc4YWJkMjkyNmEwMyxlYXoyNUFWRg%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173805724204%2Fthe-dj-part-11&m=0)  
_

Confused, she asked, “…The song or the movie?” 

“The song.”

“Okay well, first, the song is _The Greatest Show_ …”

Sam gave her an annoyed look. 

Chuckling, she checked, “What about it?” 

“It’s got a good beat, right?” he hinted. 

Her eyes widened. Whispering, “I’ve been a _fool,”_ she got up and darted to her room. Plate of donuts placed off to the side, she opened up her laptop and waited impatiently for it to start up. In the meantime she grabbed her notebook – filled with messy and almost-incoherent notes, even for _her_ – and flipped to an open space on a page. 

There, she started writing down songs she knew with a good bassline: _Believer_ by Imagine Dragons; _Come With Me Now_ by Kongos; _Go Tell Aunt Rhody_ from Resident Evil 7; _Flesh_ by Simon Curtis; _Take A Hint_ by the cast of Victorious… 

She got so into it that she didn’t even realize her laptop was done loading up. Thus started another almost-frantic, totally-enraptured work session for the budding DJ, lasting most of the day…

* * *

Finally! 

It was _date night_ , and Lisa was _super_ excited about it. Mikey, the little tease, had been carefully avoiding giving her any spoilers about what was coming, telling her only the essentials: what she should wear, when they were going to meet and where, and what she might need to bring. The list wasn’t terribly long: be prepared for warm temperatures, meet up at six, and bring her smile. 

Corny boy, her Mikey. She loved that about him. 

At first she met him at a crossroads and he directed her to get into the Subway, heading west (he even provided her with a ticket). She knew just enough about the subway system to realize they were crossing over into New Jersey, but she’d never been there before, so suffice to say Lisa was _curious_. 

Once she was across the river and off the train, he directed her (via texts) off the platform and into the tunnels. There, he snuck up on her and spooked her. 

Her yelp turned into laughter, and she turned to shove at him. “Ohmygod, you jerk!” she giggled. 

Chortling, he pulled her into a hug. “Missed you,” he said, kissing her cheek. 

Pouting and grumbling, heart still racing from her scare, she muttered back, “…Missed you, too.” 

Honestly, she couldn’t stay annoyed with him. As soon as he gave her that tilted-head, I-never-wanna-look-at-anything-else-ever-again look, all was forgiven. 

Which was why, when he bit his lip and winced, asking if she’d forgive him for his little prank, she gave in right away. For a moment she had to close her eyes and struggle through how cute he looked right then, and then, smiling at him, she answered, “Always, Mikey.” 

The look her gave her then – wonder and disbelief and sheer joy – was overwhelming. Jeez, it was like he thought of her as a deity, a goddess of some form. That was _massively_ overstating things, but she was far too insecure to argue the point; the last thing she needed was to smack down her _own_ self-esteem. 

Pulling her in closer, he cupped her cheek, then ducked his head to give her a sweet, affectionate kiss. And, she admitted, she’d missed _this_ , too: the way he kissed her, like every one was precious and rare; like he always needed one more than she gave. 

It was over _far_ too quick for her liking, actually, but Mikey was clearly too excited to linger. Drawing back, one hand going for his board already, he declared, “Alright, c’mon sweetcheeks, we got places to be!” 

He was a flurry of activity, so much so that Lisa had a hard time following what he was doing – it seemed one moment he was tugging her along with him, the next she was standing on his board with him, feet between his and back to his chest, his arms tight around her as they took off down the tunnel. 

Jeez, he left her dizzy. Lucky for him, then, that she loved his energy and enthusiasm. She wasn’t even spooked by the means of travel, feeling so safe in his grasp. Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to hold herself on a skateboard – her only issue was the fact that she wasn’t in control of it. 

Her boy made it _really_ fun, though, skidding and sashaying in ways that were easy for her to follow. The rough route they took, littered with loose stones and gravel, was hardly even felt, too; the modified board seemed made to handle such terrain. She swore the wheels went right over more than a few fist-sized hunks of stone with barely a bump to betray it. 

And it got even better when he hit the jet, sending them launching down the tunnels at speeds she _knew_ couldn’t be safe, even as her only reaction was to laugh. It gave her such a thrill, going so fast – she loved it. And, apparently, Mikey could tell; he hugged her tighter but didn’t slow down. 

He was also playing it safe despite the speed, though, opting to quit the tricks and pivots and hops now that they were going twice as fast. Good boy, her Mikey. 

Now if only she had some idea what came _after_ this… 

“Where we going?” she demanded, hopelessly lost. She thought they’d moved from the subway to the sewers again, but she was so unfamiliar with this area she couldn’t be sure. For all she knew, the tunnels they were in now were designed for pedestrian traffic. It certainly didn’t _smell_ like the sewers. 

“MetLife Stadium,” he answered, giving her neck a little nuzzle and kiss. 

_Squee!_ That was so cute and weirdly exciting, that sensation; she wasn’t sure what it did to her, but she liked it. 

Struggling to recall his words in the midst of her distracting thoughts, she ventured, “MetLife Stadium? …Where’zat?” 

He chuckled. “Oh, not far. Just on the other side of Texas. A jaunt down to the corner store,” he joked. 

Snorting, she replied, “Seriously, I’m really lost, here.” 

They made a sharp left then, Mikey leaning back and pulling her with him, an arm outstretched behind him. She couldn’t see anything, but it sounded like he’d trailed his hand through loose rocks. 

_Loose. Rocks._

As if they were _surfing_ and it were _water_ he was touching. 

Concerned, as soon as they were upright again she snatched up his hand, checking for wounds. All three fingers accounted for and no notable bleeding or bruising, she saw. 

It seemed to take him a moment to realize what she was doing. He answered, “It’s, like, an hour from here, but we got time.” Then, glancing down, he checked, “What’re you up to?” 

Looking over her shoulder at him – _wow_ he was close – she said, “Sounded like you hurt yourself. I was worried.” Then, thinking on that “an hour” comment, she tried to figure in where they were going. 

Not that she had any hope of that. She didn’t even know which direction they were going anymore, even if she _did_ know New Jersey’s layout…which she did _not_. They could just as easily be heading for a trash heap as the Great Wall of China and she’d never know the difference–

Suddenly he was pulling her face around by her chin, interrupting her train of thought with a frantic kind of kiss. It was so sweet she totally forgot that they were currently _in motion_. 

As one would expect of a pair of idiots on a skateboard with neither of them looking where they were going, as soon as their balance shifted the board went skidding out from under them – sending the couple pitching forward with a pair of equally surprised yelps. 

Lisa instinctively yanked in her arms to prepare a tuck-and-roll (one only has to break their arm by _not_ tuck-and-rolling the once before one learned one’s lesson, and she had broken her arm by failing to do so – twice), but she needn’t have bothered. 

As she tensed for impact, Mikey gave her a yank; before she knew what was happening he had her tight against him, landing shell-first on the ground. The initial impact bounced him, sending them tumbling, and to her surprise she never once hit anything – aside from her heels, anyway. Somehow her boyfriend kept her totally out of harm’s way. 

By the time they stopped – three rolls, she thought – she found herself on her back, but the phrase only applied loosely; Mikey had an arm around her back with the other braced against the ground, holding her mostly aloft. Somehow she’d gotten her legs wrapped around one of his, and he was using that to his advantage, holding her up against him. And she had no idea when her arms had gone around his neck, all but strangling him; with a nervous laugh, she let go. 

They both seemed to deflate at the same time, but while he started to question if she was okay, Lisa devolved into laughter. She couldn’t help it; she found _falling_ hilarious – including her own tumbles. Something about watching a person trip and fall prone just tickled the hell out of her. 

With a cautious chuckle, arms loosening to set her on the ground, Mikey checked, “Y-you okay there, Lisa?” 

Nodding, she fought against her humor to brokenly reply, “Y-yeah, Mikey, I-I’m okay. Just k-kinda…ya know…” 

His smile said yes, he “knew” – which was amazing…because she had no idea where she was going with that statement. 

Then, wincing, he said, “I, uh…I’m sorry. That was dumb.” 

Sobering, she replied lightly, “Hey, it’s fine. No one got hurt, right?” Then, suddenly alarmed, she checked, “Right? You didn’t get hurt, either?” 

He gave a soft laugh, glancing away. “You need to quit that,” he told her. 

Uh, what? “…Quit what?” she asked, confused and, yeah, a little wary. What had she done? Was this _her_ fault, somehow? Was it because she’d stared at his hand for that moment – was he sensitive about the number of digits he had? What had she done?!?! 

“Worrying about me,” he answered, tilting his head. The action dragged his chain necklace across her collarbone, the cold metal feeling weirdly delightful. 

Relieved that she _hadn’t_ messed up somehow, she gave a strangled laugh. Then, feeling equally shy and gutsy, she commented, “Hey, I-I may be new to this whole…girlfriend-boyfriend thing, but I’m pretty sure it’s in the rules that I gotta worry. That, and kiss any boo-boos,” she said with a confident nod. 

Even as she spoke, she found herself marveling at their position – a boy was literally on top of her and she wasn’t scared. Heck, she wasn’t even wary; she knew her Mikey wouldn’t do anything to her. It’d be a stretch to say she wasn’t nervous, though, because honestly…

…she’d imagined them like this a few times already. Part of her visions had been deliberate, trying to figure out how she felt about this kind of intimacy and how she was likely to react. But some of those scenes…they’d been self-indulgent. She’d imagined his hands and his mouth here and there, venturing to certain places and performing certain acts. 

She _still_ didn’t know how she felt about those thoughts. What she did know, though? 

Now that they were actually in this position, she had just as strong a desire to kiss him as she did to run in the other direction. Conflicted, unsure what to do, she just batted his necklace back and forth, the metal links amusing and distracting her as they glanced over her skin.  

Mikey gave her this cute, pleased smirk, then pointed at his mouth. “Got one here,” he teased. 

_Dork._ “…Guess I’m on-duty, then,” she returned, little butterflies taking flight in her belly at how silly and corny this moment was. Fisting that necklace of his, she tugged, lifting her chin to meet him halfway. 

Kissing him was _always_ fun, but right then it was especially heart-pounding. As she was still learning in this field, Lisa couldn’t do much more than follow his lead – and it was becoming increasingly obvious that _he_ was learning a lot faster than _she_ was. He kept trying little new things, too (dragging his lips across hers, kissing the far corner of her mouth, ending a meeting with letting her lip slip out from between his teeth, and so on), and she got the very distinct impression he was picking up on every little reaction she had to them. 

The ones she liked, he kept doing. The ones she didn’t – well, actually, so far there wasn’t _anything_ she _didn’t_ like. 

This was so different from their first make-out. They’d both been so eager, clumsy, and unskilled; they’d managed to contradict one another’s movements then, making things harder on themselves. 

Now it went smoothly, the couple telling by feel alone what the other was doing and how to respond. It just took some practice, a touch of experimentation, a little patience and a dash of enthusiasm. 

Straight from dizzying but silly to breathtaking and addictive. 

Mikey was _so good_ , she thought, noting how he braced a hand behind her head for support as things started to heat up. In the midst of their passionate kissing, that little action sent a sweet pulse through her. She didn’t really mind being on the hard, rocky ground right then – there were _other_ things to focus on – but she absolutely _loved_ how he lessened her discomfort with that tiny move. 

It didn’t take too long for things to get even hotter, the kiss deepening as their tongues entered the play. And, in between moan-inducing meetings, he mumbled out, “ _God_ , Lisa…your stud…” 

“Uhn?” was the extent of her intelligent response; she was too distracted to form a full word. 

“Love it,” he finished, swiping his tongue right across the piercing. 

She shivered, the move thrilling her as much as his comment. To date she still didn’t know why, exactly, she’d gotten it; she liked piercings (as evidenced by the twelve in her ears and two in her brow), so maybe that had been reason enough. Getting her tongue pierced had been a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. 

But it was also fun, so she had no regrets – and now, knowing her boyfriend “loved it”, too…

“Good,” she breathed, pulling harder on the necklace she still had clamped in her hand to give him a firmer kiss. 

They might have just spent the whole night like that, making out in that tunnel, utterly distracted and everything else forgotten, if not for one particular action on Lisa’s part: she shifted her leg…and slammed her knee into the hard edge of Mikey’s shell in the process. 

She gave a loud screech at the sudden, jarring pain shooting up her leg, and her boyfriend practically _leapt_ off her. Now free, she grabbed the aching joint – god, why was she so damn good at hitting things with her knees?! – and rolled to her side as her nature kicked in and she devolved into laughter. 

Well, she mused, that was one way to end things… 

Mikey was _horrified_ , hands outstretched, but his hesitant queries about her injury only made her laugh harder. The ache faded quickly anyway, and then she was just left with amusement over how ridiculous this situation was. 

She’d banged her _knee_ into her boyfriend’s _shell_. Her nonhuman boyfriend’s shell. And, she thought, it was probably a good thing he had it; she might’ve kneed him in the groin if it hadn’t been there. 

Then _he’d_ be the one on the ground, aching and groaning. 

The moment was defused soon enough, Mikey steadily relaxing to the point where _he_ started chuckling, too. Then, offering her a hand, he said, “C’mon. We still have a date to get to.” 

Oh, yeah. Somehow she’d forgotten about that. 

Grinning, she took his hand, letting him haul her back to her feet. “So, this time,” she directed, “eyes on the road.” 

Chagrined, he shuffled a little, biting his lip. “Sorry,” he apologized again. 

Hopping up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “S’alright. No one got hurt, _and_ we got to have some fun, right? Isn’t that what makes a date?”  

“…Well, I guess we can have a date _anywhere,”_ he suggested with a lopsided grin. 

Giggling, she replied, “And ruin your hard work? Nah. ‘Sides, I wanna know what you set up.” Glancing around, she spotted his board, but he was already striding to it before she could so much as take a step. Still, she headed for it anyway, since they’d be sharing it and all. 

As soon as he was ready, he pulled her back up onto it, arms securing around her. 

“I’ll be more careful this time,” he promised her. 

“Oh, hell to that,” she threw back, grinning at him. “Let’s have fun.” 

His expression then read, _You’re perfect._  

That look made her blush, but soon the cool wind on her cheeks and the thrill of dual-skateboarding with her boyfriend erased it. Honestly, this, alone, could’ve been their whole date and she never would have complained. But when they actually arrived to their destination and she learned they were at a concert, she was doubly thrilled. 

_She_ was perfect? Hell to _that_ – _Mikey_ was the perfect one.


	12. Naughty Girl

**Rating:** X (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Sneaking a human through a stadium full of other humans was surprisingly difficult, Mikey discovered. Sure, Lisa could just walk through the masses, but she had the _worst_ poker face. Initially he got her through the ticket booth and just told her where to go while he moved through the rafters and vents, keeping her in sight as much as he could. 

But she looked so guilty and timid the whole time, she immediately got singled out by security. Finding her lacking a ticket, the two guards – amused – made her turn around. Sighing – then laughing to himself – Mikey backtracked as Lisa, pink-faced, got escorted back out. 

He’d wanted her to just walk to their destination to avoid having her struggle to climb through the place his way, but now it was clear that wasn’t happening. 

She apologized as he started to lead her through the stadium the sneaky way, wincing and blushing. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he told her, chuckling. Then, finger to his lips, he directed, “And _shh_. You’re a ninja now, too.” 

That loosened her up a bit and, grinning, she mimed zipping her lips. 

_That’s my girl,_ he thought, pausing to pull her hand up to his mouth and kiss her knuckles. 

Annnnd the blush was back, he saw, Lisa wriggling a little and biting her lip. God, she was too cute. A part of him wanted to help teach her to not look so damn guilty when sneaking around, but the rest of him never wanted her to change. Having to smuggle her into theaters and stadiums was a small price to pay for how adorable she was. 

Besides, he got to hug her close _way_ more like this and he had no complaints with that. The awkward grinning and blushing was so precious, it might just be his favorite thing about her. 

Along with, ya know, everything else. Lisa was a package deal and damn if he didn’t win the lotto with her. 

_The lotto – the lottery? Which one did you win? You_ enter _the lotto – or was_ that _one the lottery–_

Nevermind. 

Shoving those thoughts aside, he focused back on the route ahead. They were nearly at their goal, and he was excited to see how Lisa would react when they got there. 

Soon they arrived at their destination: behind one of the large TV screens. A huge 3-story tall frame, three times as wide as tall, and enclosed _technically_ on all sides but had removable panels so they could squeeze in. Judging by the graffiti and sharpie tags, they weren’t the only ones to have this particular idea. The stage set up on the field was far away from their vantage point, though, which had been the one downer about this whole thing. 

He wished he could’ve gotten them closer, but the field was so open, no places for cover…well, no cover for _him_ , anyway. Lisa could’ve made it down there, at least. 

As she grinned, peeking out from between the screen and its support, he apologized, “Sorry I couldn’t get us closer…” 

He intentionally avoided saying anything about how easy it’d be to get her down to the field from here, though – because, honestly, he didn’t want to part from her now. It was selfish, yeah, but he reasoned that _dates_ were couple activities. They _should_ stay together. 

He still felt a little guilty, though. 

“It’s fine,” Lisa answered absently, sounding so… _not_ annoyed that it actually confused him. 

She didn’t _want_ to get closer? 

Picking his words carefully, he ventured, “You wouldn’t…wanna be up there? With the crowd?” 

“Crowds are overrated,” she was her flippant reply. 

Still a little cautious, he checked, “You wouldn’t wanna see Beyonce up close?” 

_“Mikey,”_ she laughed, giving him an amused look. “Yeah, sure, I’d love to see Queen Bee up close, but you don’t listen to music with your _eyes_. I can hear everything just fine,” she assured him. 

For the second time (that night – like the sixth time overall), his mind was reduced to a literal keyboard smash. God, she really was perfect, wasn’t she? He’d been so stressed over the things he couldn’t give her – holding hands while walking down the street, watching a concert from the front row, hanging out at a cafe and chatting, even running down the street to catch the Ice Cream Man on a summer day – and she didn’t care about any of that, it seemed. 

Or, at least…she cared about him _more_ than she cared about everything else, and _man_ if that didn’t excite the hell out of him. 

Seeming to catch on to his stun, she sent him a smile, her adorable dimples on full display. She said, “I didn’t come on this date cause of where we were going. I came cause I wanted to be with you.” 

His heart _flipped_ in his chest. 

Stepping up to him, hands lifting to his chain – she seemed to really like it, he noticed (and yes, it reminded him of when she’d pulled on it, and suffice to say he enjoyed the memory) – she went on, “We coulda gone anywhere. I don’t care that – well, I mean,” she chuckled, “I _totally_ care that we’re at a concert, but like…I also don’t? I’ve never been to a concert so this is like a dream come true, but I didn’t need something like this, y’know? Cause you–” 

As much as he found it cute as hell, how she rambled, he cut her off then with a sudden kiss – both because he felt the impulse to do it and cause, y’know, it’d been like…twenty minutes since he’d last kissed her. 

That was a literal crime.  

She gave a little, surprised squeak, jolting against him, before she returned the gesture. For a long moment they stayed just like that, arms winding around one another and kissing in the dark, secluded room behind the stadium’s jumbotron. Then the show began down on stage. 

Excited, Lisa broke the kiss with a grin and went back to her corner, peeking out from the small gap between the television screen and the frame. Instantaneously missing her, he followed, coming to slip his arms around her as he took a spot behind her. Looking over her head, he could barely make out activity on the stage from here. 

He winced again, wishing he could’ve gotten them closer. 

She didn’t seem to mind though, starting to shift and sway to the beat. She’d been right, after all – they could hear the music just fine. It echoed a little where they were, but at least she appeared totally okay with that. 

In no time she went from little head bobs and wiggles to dancing in place, making Mikey back off a little to give her some room. He would’ve been fine watching her, to be honest, but she rounded on him _immediately_ and pulled him in, wordlessly getting him join her. 

Grinning, he did so, though he made sure to keep things slow and easy. He didn’t want her exhausting herself cause she was trying to keep up with him, after all. One song bled into the next for the couple, and Lisa only stopped when certain sexier songs – _Partition_ and _Baby Boy_ and such – reached them. 

She was clearly _not_ okay with sexier songs. A shame, that – he really liked that kind of music. Maybe someday he’d be able to dance with her to them, but that day was _not_ today. 

Not that he minded, really; she was so adorable when she got awkward and shy. It made him want to cuddle her close and nuzzle and kiss the heck out of her. 

A few songs in, though, he noticed how she was starting to sweat and pant. Just lifting his hand to hover near her neck, he could feel the heat rising off her. She was wearing a hoodie again, and it worried him. He’d told her to dress light, but she was wearing a long-sleeve hoodie with the zipper up to her neck. 

These stands didn’t get much in the way of wind and it was a summer night, after all. He could feel how warm it was in here, and he had the mutagen to keep him balanced – Lisa _didn’t_. Add that to their activity, the dancing, and it was no wonder she was getting red-faced. 

Concerned, he spoke over the music, saying, “Lisa? Need a break?” 

Her response was a conflicted, “No – well, yeah, I guess, maybe…” 

So he made the decision _for_ her, pulling her away from the gap to take a seat on an appropriately-high beam. Shrugging off his backpack, he dug inside and took one of each of the three drinks he’d brought: Orange Crush (couldn’t go anywhere without it!), water bottles, and small bottles of Sunny D. They’d been inside a smaller cooler pack along with some ice, so they were well-chilled. 

Offering them, he said, “Lady’s pick.” 

Chuckling, she selected the water first, twisting off the cap and chugging it. 

Putting the Sunny D between them, he contemplated the can of Orange Crush in his hands, wondering if he should try talking about this. He knew plenty well that he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could still put together some obvious facts – such as Lisa’s choice to remain hot and uncomfortable in her hoodie rather than take it off. 

That meant there was something in her, some fear, maybe, that was worse than the prospect of getting heat stroke. His only guess: it had to do with that bullying she’d mentioned. But they’d _barely_ started their relationship; he doubted she’d talk about it yet. 

Still, it might be worth letting her know that he _noticed_. 

Picking his words carefully, Mikey ventured, “You could…take off your hoodie. Cool off.” 

Though he wasn’t looking at her right then, he still caught how she paused, then hesitantly lowered the bottle of water. “I-I know,” was her quiet reply. 

Glancing over at her, he asked, “Not gonna?” 

She shook her head ‘no’. 

“Why not?” 

Rolling the bottle between her hands, she looked away, even shifting a little away from him. It hurt a bit, watching her turn from him, but it also spoke _volumes_ about how she felt. Whatever dark secret she was hiding, the very thought of it seemed enough to make her shrink and cower. 

He was at a disadvantage. He didn’t have any experience handling this sort of thing, plus Lisa was his first girlfriend – he had no idea how to approach this situation. In the past he’d just spoken his thoughts and hoped for the best and it’d always seemed to work out, though, so maybe that was enough? 

“Lisa, whatever you’ve suffered,” he started, “I don’t want you hurting yourself because of it.” She winced; unsure whether that was good or bad, he went on, “I want you to feel comfortable. That’s all. If you’re too hot, just take off the hoodie – I promise not to say anything ‘bout it,” he added sharply. 

Hugging herself, she murmured, “Not yet. I… I-I can’t.” 

He could hear the fear in her voice. It made him shrink a little, his good mood deflating, even as he felt a newfound determination to figure this out, to get past it. 

He said, “Lisa, I’m not…gonna force you to talk about this. But I want you to know that no matter what it is, it won’t change how I feel about you.” 

She looked back at him, and when he met her gaze he saw her eyes were brimming with tears. A cautious kind of hope shined there, difficult to see in the low light but so openly _there_ that it started a little shake inside him. 

Lisa _wanted_ to trust him with this – whatever “this” was – even though she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. It was heartening. 

Reaching out, he brought his hand to her cheek, stroking her soft – _too hot_ – flesh. Then, going for levity, he quipped, “If it helps, I can tell you some of _my_ deep, dark secrets.” 

She snorted, the tense moment over with in a snap. Scooting closer to him, she turned her back to his side, leaning into him as she folded her legs, then pulled his arm around her. 

_Swoon!_

“Like what?” she chuckled, amused. “You keep forgetting to put the toilet seat down?” 

That actually made him realize that he’d never once put the seat down without needing to #2, despite the fact that Donnie told them all to keep the seats and lids down at all times. It lessens something-or-other in the air, yada-yada, aaaaand Mikey was already yawning. Donnie _really_ needed to learn how to summarize better. 

To Lisa, he commented, “I mean _aside_ from that.” 

She giggled. 

Lowering his voice to just barely audible over Beyonce’s music, he whispered, “Sometimes I steal Raph’s pudding cups and blame it on Donnie.” 

Glancing up at him, grinning, she put on a shocked look. _“Nooooo,”_ she mock-gasped. 

 _“Yeeeeaaaah,”_ he agreed with a mimicked expression. 

Hand over her mouth, she feigned horror. “Goodness, I don’t think I can take another such secret!” 

The way she was looking up at him made his heart flutter, but he tried to push past that to keep up the game. “Once,” he continued, “I swapped one of Leo and Dad’s bonsai plants. They still haven’t noticed.” 

At that, she chortled in a decidedly unfeminine way, and he found it _adorable_. “I can see that, actually,” she said then, thoughtful. 

“Yeah? Well, what about…” Pausing, Mikey glanced back and forth, as if checking for unseen eavesdroppers. Then, lowering his mouth to her ear, he breathed, “I’m secretly the Boogeyman and I eat little children at night–” He cut himself off there with a series of noisy bite noises, nibbling at her ear, and Lisa _squealed_. 

Wriggling and kicking, she tried to escape, but he caught her tight and hauled her more tightly against him, his torment never ceasing (though he _did_ migrate his bites from her ear to her neck and back). She was losing it, laughing loud and clear with the cutest little coughs and chortles in the midst of it. Just the sound of her laughter made him happy, setting butterflies to flight in his chest. 

It didn’t take long for Lisa to give up, screaming, “Stop, stop! I gi-ive up!” 

The _last_ thing he wanted was to let her free of his grasp, but he’d had his fun and achieved his goal (distracting her), so he did so. He helped her up first, though, making sure she was steady before withdrawing his hands from her. 

Then, as she caught her breath and brushed her hair back, red-faced and still giving lingering giggles, he quipped, “You look good in pink.” 

She shoved him, even as she grinned in amusement. 

* * *

Though she was still hesitant to talk, Lisa’s spirits had lifted considerably. Mikey was great at giving her something else to think about, she was discovering; his jovial nature seemed perfectly tailored to keep her away from depressing thoughts. 

She appreciated that. 

But once the tickle session was over, he ventured carefully, “I know I said I’m not gonna force you to talk, but…I want you to know that I _do_ wanna know…ya know, everything. About you.” 

She appreciated that, too. Nodding, she agreed quietly, “I-I know. And I do wanna talk, it’s just…the words…don’t wanna come out.” She was kind of ashamed of that, of her inability to voice her thoughts. But it is what it is, and so far it remained impossible to say anything about her past. 

She’d tried. 

Her throat had seized closed. 

She so badly wanted to talk to him, to reveal her insecurities – if only to get it out of the way – and the desire had only grown stronger when he’d told her that no matter what, his feelings wouldn’t change. That kind of devotion deserved her full trust. 

So why couldn’t she get the words out? 

Clearing her throat, she said simply, “A talk for later, I guess.” 

Mikey was giving her this tilted-head look right then, like he was peeling her apart to figure out how she ticked. It was unnerving, to be honest; she wasn’t sure what he’d find on such a journey and didn’t really want to know. Maybe it was the ninja in him, but so far he’d proven to be able to pick up on her emotions really quickly, even over text form. 

The idea that he could learn more about her than even _she_ knew was kind of scary. 

And, as Lisa shifted in place, uncomfortable with the scrutiny, he seemed to catch on to _that_ , too; he looked away. An awkward silence descended, interrupted only by music playing over the distance. 

Then Mikey picked up the bottle of Sunny D and offered it to her. Somehow that gesture brightened her spirits considerably, and she took it with a murmured ‘thanks’. The sharp, tangy flavor was helpfully distracting, and it was _so cold_ still! He must have some kind of cooler or ice pack or something in that backpack of his. 

The chill felt amazing as it spread through her neck and chest, seeming to implant energy in time with it. She quickly felt ready to get back to the fun part of the date: dancing with and hugging up on her boyfriend. To that end she hopped off the beam and faced Mikey, gesturing him to come join her. 

Almost as if magnetized, he did so, though she could see a certain caution in him as they picked up where they left off. But she was more careful now, putting in the effort to be aware of what her body needed; any time she started to feel hot, she stopped to take a drink. Unsurprisingly, drinking Sunny D instead of straight water soon led to a bathroom break, Mikey helping her to a restroom and then back without attracting attention. 

She still avoided dancing to the sexier songs, for the most part, but after so many of them she decided to chance it. When _Naughty Girl_ played later into the concert, she tried to her damnedest to keep going. 

It was embarrassing as hell, though, as the lyrics were very much _not_ like her; she couldn’t make herself look at Mikey the entire time. 

[](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DNydVTlTMk48&t=NDc5NTk1NmVhNmM0MGUwMzY5NDc1YzhjZmMyYzg3OTVlZGZjNDE3MyxCNVVYV3hnZQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F174029109014%2Fthe-dj-part-12&m=0)_Baby the minute I feel your energy_  
Your vibe’s just taken over me  
Start feelin’ so crazy babe   
Lately, I feel the funk coming over me  
I don’t know what’s gotten into me  
The rhythm’s got me feelin’ so crazy babe 

Soon she couldn’t _dance_ anymore, though, stuck somewhere between tension and desire. She chanced a hesitant glance up…and found herself entranced. But it totally wasn’t her fault! Her boyfriend was so damn attractive; she had the hardest time looking away from him, eyes drawn to him for so many reasons – his eyes, his brawn, his style, his energy… 

He was magnetic, and right then he had a dark, hot kind of look to him. Wherever his head was right then, she got the feeling it was a place she dared not tread. Still, curiosity and a desire to explore drew her in closer. When his hands pulled her in, it was like she was trapped there. Sure, she knew she could step back and he’d let her, but didn’t want to. 

She wanted to _learn_ , to experience the kind of deep need she’d never before been able to feel. Mikey had already shown her some of that world, and now she wanted more of it. 

She was just incapable of _asking_ for it. 

Instead, she just moved in, slid her hands up to his smooth, warm neck, and pulled him down to her. And she admitted, as they started to kiss, that this was _way_ better than dancing. She was hot and sweating in uncomfortable places, but right then, she felt _good_. 

Maybe it was the song, the setting, or the heat; whatever the reason, things quickly started to spiral out of control. Lisa couldn’t seem to be able to stop, and from the way her boyfriend crushed her against him and kept licking at her mid-kiss, he couldn’t, either. 

She went from being dizzy from warmth to being dizzy from passion. 

…She was okay with that. 

Making out was _seriously_ addictive, she was learning. Soon the sounds of smacking lips and soft moans eclipsed the music in the background, and it was the first time in her life she could honestly say she liked music _less_ than another kind of noise. Couple that with a couple pairs of wandering hands – she especially liked when he tugged at the clothing on her back and ran his fingers through her hair – and she could confidently say that this particular activity was better than any other. 

If she could, she would absolutely do this for hours on end. 

But the more they kissed, hands petting and pulling, the more a little voice in the back of her mind grew louder. _Stop,_ that voice said. _You’re not ready. It’s too soon._

But, damn it, she still wanted this. 

_I can have a bit more,_ she decided. 

Then Mikey ducked his head, bringing his mouth to her neck, and her inner conflict grew. Her head fell back, welcoming the way he kissed and lapped at her skin; her fingers bit into his shoulders, scared of where this was headed. 

How much could she take, how much should she allow? She didn’t know her limits, as she’d never been able to test them. ‘Sex’ and ‘passion’ were scary words to her, even as she admitted to being intrigued by the concepts. Besides, just because she wanted something didn’t mean she could handle it. And on top of everything else, she wanted to be a good girlfriend. 

Thing was, she didn’t know what that entailed. Should she just give in to everything Mikey wanted of her? She was sure that would end in making love, though, and she still resisted the very thought of that. He deserved it, she knew; he deserved to have everything he could ever want. 

But the idea of stripping, of letting him see her fully exposed, was downright terrifying. She yearned to have his hands on her, on every part of her she’d never let be touched before, yet just imagining it had her withdrawing. 

She just…wasn’t confident enough. 

Mikey was _brilliant_ , though, his mouth feeling incredible on her as his hands gave little, comforting pets to her hips. It wasn’t overwhelming; if anything, it was as much relaxing as it was arousing. A heavy throb had started in her nethers, aching for relief; her thighs squashed together to try and stifle it from sheer embarrassment.  

God, she felt so good right then, her fingers going from a tense grip to a needy scratch. Then, in one fluid motion, Mikey seized her rear and yanked her up into his arms; she gave a surprised ‘yip’ at the touch, a quiver going through her as her knees instinctively pressing into his sides as tight as they could. That was…that was the singe most intimate touch she’d ever allowed… 

Lisa didn’t get much time to think on it, though, her new position making it easy for him to kiss her again. She couldn’t help a lusty moan as his tongue started a new tour of her mouth, her hands ghosting along his neck. Her fingers followed the chain he wore, drawn to the metal links now warm from his own body heat. 

Little temptations, little concessions. That was what was happening: they kept alternating between giving a little more and getting a little more. It hardly even felt like a big deal anymore – to be held aloft in her boyfriend’s arms, legs anchored to his hips. 

When his hands gripped and squeezed her own hips, her legs tightened against him, wanting more. 

She got it when he groaned hard, shuddered, and started _grinding_ against her. Gasping, her hands seized the edge of his shell, eyes snapping open. An incredible flood of pleasure hit her every time he ground against her juncture, noting against her will precisely how… _excited_ he’d become, but a terrible fear and reluctance accompanied it. 

_You’re not ready!_ that voice from before shouted. 

Cringing, she agreed, even as she told herself to grit her teeth and bear it. It wasn’t like it felt _bad,_ after all, and the insistent motions just went to show how badly she’d aroused her boyfriend. 

A good girlfriend took responsibility for that…right? 

But, god, it was too much – too intimate, too fast, too _close_. Just the feel of his erection, alone, made her want to curl up and vanish into nothingness. She buried her face in Mikey’s neck, choosing to just hang on until he was done. She counted the beats of her pounding heart and tried to focus on the music from the concert, looking for distractions everywhere. 

For a moment he just mimicked her, running his mouth against her neck…and then he stopped. Just…stopped. 

She counted seven more beats before he withdrew, bringing a hand to her neck to turn her face towards him. The smallest glimpse of his tentative blue eyes was all she could take, looking off to the side with a jerk of her head. 

She was close enough that she heard him swallow. Then he ventured, “Lisa? …You okay?” 

Not really, no, but she didn’t want to admit to that. God, how pathetic was she? She’d been perfectly happy to take his affections, all but demanding he give her what she wanted, yet she flaked when it was her turn to give? She winced from the shame of it. 

There was another moment of silence, then Mikey set her back on her feet. She couldn’t mask her surprise, giving him a look of shock. 

He just cupped her cheek, tilting his head, and said, “That was too far…” Not a question, she noted. A statement. 

“I…no?” was her confused response. “I mean…you weren’t, um…” _done_. 

He shook his head. “I went too far,” he told her. Head lowering, he apologized, “Sorry, Lisa…I shouldn’t’ve done that.” 

Um, what? 

Her mouth opened, closed. Unsure what to say, she fought to get out a thought, saying, “Yeah, but…I mean…hang on, this…it’s something you wanted, right?” she finally got out. 

“Not if _you_ don’t,” he returned, looking just as ashamed as she felt right then. 

“But…Mikey, I want you to have what you want,” she told him. “I was totally gonna let you…keep going and whatever.” She gave a weak shrug as she spoke, not entirely sure how well her thoughts were coming across. 

The look he gave her then was almost one of betrayal. Having no idea how to respond to that, she did nothing when he reached out, cupping her face. 

His mouth thinned to a grim line, giving her the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes she’d ever seen. He said firmly, “Tell me ‘no’.” 

Confused, she ventured, “No…to what?” 

“To anything, everything,” he clarified. “If I’m doing too much, tell me ‘no’. Tell me to stop.” 

How could she ever? “I-I don’t…that’s harder than it sounds,” she hedged. Saying ‘no’ was shockingly difficult for her, had always been. It was even more so now, with _him_ – she didn’t want to deny him anything. To hell with her feelings; she could muscle through anything for his sake. She knew he’d be good to her, anyway. 

Besides… “I don’t _want_ to tell you ‘no’,” she admitted. 

To her surprise, Mikey gave her a solid, “I do.” 

He…wanted her to tell him ‘no’? But…why? “Mikey…?” she ventured, awkward and reluctant but helpless against a need to understand him. She’d been scared, yes, but only because of her own damn insecurities. 

She’d absolutely been willing to let him have more. 

Then he said, “You have tears in your eyes,” and, blinking, she realized in a rush that he was right. Now even more embarrassed, she looked away, giving her eyes a swipe with her sleeve. 

“It’s nothing,” she said. 

Bringing her face back around with a hand at her chin, he murmured, “Those tears…they hurt worse than anything else. More than saying ‘no’ ever could. So just…just say it if you have to, okay?” 

Unable to find fault with that logic, she gave a little nod, even as she felt horrible for agreeing. A good girlfriend tended to her boyfriend, she thought. A good girlfriend should give her boyfriend what he wanted, especially when she’d driven him mad with lust. But…

…But maybe a good boyfriend accommodated his girlfriend, refusing to take more than she was comfortable giving. Either way, she felt a newfound appreciation for her darling Mikey. 

When she gave him a little smile, glad they’d had this chat after all, he returned it. Then, seeming to shake off the somber moment, he declared, “Great! Now, back to the fun stuff. C’mon. We can sit and talk about Mortal Kombat,” he offered with a grin. 

As she gave a verbal agreement, she couldn’t help thinking how amazing he was – like, did he know she was feeling tired? Is that why he suggested sitting instead of dancing? He must, because he handed her a water bottle as soon as they were seated. 

And when he sat down, she didn’t miss a subtle shove of his hands in the direction of his groin; she sharply looked in another direction, pretending to find the frame they were in interesting. 

Haha, holy shit, she’d just glimpsed something…really… _impressive_ , and though she fought to focus on something else, she just knew she’d be thinking about it again later. And though that prospect was kind of shameful, the idea that she’d definitely be contemplating this situation while in bed, it was also…kind of…exciting. 

She’d just had her first real introduction into the world of sex, and though she was definitely not ready to venture too deep…

…she liked what she’d found so far.


	13. In Love AND Lust

**Rating:** XXX (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

The date went _great!_

Well – it did aside from the few hiccups. Mikey still worried over Lisa, over her hesitations and her willingness to act without consideration for her own well-being. Finding out that she’d rather overheat than take off her damn hoodie had been enough of a harrowing revelation, but then she had to go and put _his_ pleasure before _her_ comfort, too? 

God, that’d been…hard on him. Hearing her say things like _I want you to have what you want_ and _I don’t wanna say no_ had messed with his head. He could _feel_ that her emotions had gone haywire during that makeout session, that she’d gone from eager to downright terrified, yet she’d been willing to suffer through it. 

For _him_. To let him just take his pleasure at _her_ expense. 

For a moment the hardest thing had been _not_ taking her up on her offer. He imagined stripping her, touching her, tasting her everywhere; he imagined making her moan and scream for him, imagined her pleading for more; he imagined entering her, making love both fast and slow, sating himself with her…and making her come for him. 

He wanted it so bad it was like a physical ache. Technically, it kind of was – he’d had a _raging_ erection for a while. It’d taken time and a lot of distracting thoughts for it to go away, though it kind of throbbed still. By now he just knew that masturbating _once_ wasn’t going to make it any better; he’d need to beat it, like, three times before that ache would fade. 

But even though he knew he was going to be wincing for a while, ultimately he didn’t care. He’d learned a lot about Lisa tonight, and adding that to their combined enjoyment of the concert… 

He couldn’t have been happier. 

Impulsive guy that he was, Mikey couldn’t resist just voicing his thoughts when they occurred. So when he got to thinking about hanging with Lisa in his room, playing video games and showing her his comic collection, he couldn’t stem from excitedly asking her. 

The concert was over by now and they were lingering in their hidey-hole as things quieted down, still chatting, when the idea hit him. 

“Hey, babe?” he started, getting her attention. She blushed, biting her lip, at the nickname; he grinned, loving how easily she turned pink. “You wanna, uh…” he went on, only to run into a particular hiccup: how did he say this? 

After a moment of thought, going through different phrasings in his head, he just blurted, “Wanna see the Lair?” 

She blinked, totally uncomprehending. “Uh, is that…a movie?” she checked. 

A beat of silence passed. Then, realizing how vague his query had been, Mikey burst out laughing. Haha, whoops. 

Lisa was wincing, though, obviously embarrassed. “I, uh… M-Mikey?” she pressed, hesitant. 

Shaking his head, he forced the amusement back down. Struggling for calm, he began, “S-sorry, that was my fault…I shoulda said it better. No, the Lair…it’s our home. We call it the Lair,” he clarified.  

Getting it now, she nodded. “Oh, okay…” Then she turned thoughtful and ventured, “You…you wanna take me to your home?” 

Well, _yeah_. Nodding, he replied, “Of course! You’re my girl, right? … _Right?”_ he added more sharply. 

Grinning, she glanced down at her lap, fingers twisting and wringing. “Y-yeah,” she agreed softly. 

_Exactly._ “I’ll need to ask if everyone’s okay with it first,” he told her, “but as soon as they give the green light, you can stop by anytime.” 

Her expression softened and, looking up, she answered, “Yeah, Mikey. I’d love to see your home.” 

_Hell fucking yes!!_ He leapt up to his feet with a loud _whoop_ , fists in the air. And his adorable Lisa covered her face, pitching forward, and he felt yet another _swoon_. 

She was _so_ damn cute! 

Wanting to avoid overwhelming her, though, he controlled himself, forcibly calming down – not an easy task, that. Fishing out his phone, intent on calling ahead, he said, “It’ll take like an hour and a half to get there, but–”

“What? Hang on,” Lisa interrupted, looking up again. “You mean, like, we’re doing this _tonight?_ Like _now?”_

Good mood freezing, Mikey ventured, “Uhh, yeah?” 

She winced. “I can’t do it _tonight_ , baby boy. I got work in the morning.” 

Oh. 

Oh, right. 

Work. 

Humans worked. They got jobs. 

_Lisa_ had a job. 

Deflating, he put his phone back, lamenting how society worked aboveground. Why did money have to exist? It was the root of every problem ever – it stopped people from having free time and doing what they wanted when they wanted. Things would be so much simpler without it… 

If he and his brothers were nothing else, they were at least examples of how easily people could live without needing to conform to society’s rules – they made everything they needed and while it wasn’t without its struggles, they had no complaints. 

It was as simple as helping one another when asked and using creativity to its fullest potential. Seriously! 

“S-so,” he started, “uh, you work mornings?” 

Nodding, she agreed, “Uh, yeah. Friday and Saturday are my first days, then I get Sunday off. Gil tries to give everyone the schedules they want, and I said I had no preferences, so starting next week I get Sundays and Wednesdays off. Sometimes other days, if everyone else’s schedules are full,” she explained. 

Sundays and Wednesdays. Planning ahead – and cringing a little inside from the prospect that he’d only get to see her twice in a week at most – Mikey said, “So…Sunday?” 

Smiling, Lisa confirmed, “Sunday.” Then, after a pause, she squeaked, “It’s a date.” 

_God_ , that made him grin _so hard_. 

He was about to reply when he clearly heard footsteps from nearby and held out a hand to let Lisa know to be quiet. Sure enough, after a moment of listening he heard the unmistakable sound of untrained sneaking. Someone was headed this way – _two_ someones, he thought. 

Uh-oh. 

Gesturing for silence, he stealthily grabbed his pack, then started to climb up the frame. A lifetime of practice made his motions silent, but his girlfriend wasn’t so lucky; when he gestured her to follow, her sneakers squeaked against every beam. 

Wincing, he helped her move more quietly, then had her hold her position with a touch and a finger against his lips. Nodding, she carefully softened her breaths, though he could see her pulse in her neck racing. Going for a distraction, he leaned in and kissed her – slow, sweet, gentle; he was trying his damnedest to calm her nerves. 

There was a loud scrape as one of the panels was pulled aside, one and then two figures entering the enclosed space. Security guards, he saw. They strode around the area, flashlights examining everything shoulder-height and below. When the lights landed on the numerous cans and bottles left on the ground, Mikey did a mental forehead slap. 

“Yep,” one of them said – a woman, he realized then, her outfit so shapeless her voice was the only clue. “Told you I heard someone.” 

The other guard sighed. “Why do they even do this stuff?” he asked. 

“What, litter?” the woman joked. 

He gave a soft chuckle. “Sneak in. Especially here,” he clarified. 

Amused, Mikey sent Lisa a grin; she winced, grinning back. There was a sharp excitement to her eyes, proving what he’d already known: she was totally an adrenaline junkie. The prospect of getting caught thrilled her. Considering Mikey, himself, loved the spotlight, the two of them together were bound to get into trouble. 

Why did that only make him happier? 

The female guard shrugged. “Kids are broke. They want to see a concert but can’t afford it, of course they’re gonna sneak in.” 

Toeing one of the crushed water bottles, her partner complained, “Yeah, well, they could at least clean up after themselves.” 

Laughing, the woman said, “I’ll get a trash bag. Make sure they’re gone.” 

As she started to head out, the guy called, “Want me to take ‘em into custody if I find ‘em?” 

She waved an arm dismissively. “Only if they’re dicks. Otherwise, no harm no foul, alright?” 

Nodding, the guy sighed and turned in a circle, flashlight shining in the corners. Mikey got a distinct impression from the pair of them that the female was the senior officer here. He was also glad she was gone; dealing with one person was way easier than dealing with two. 

Trying to avoid a confrontation, though, he tried to get them out silently first. He waited for the guard to turn his back; the man started gazing at some of the tags on the back of the screen, giving the perfect opportunity. Mikey helped Lisa down, showing her as they snuck away how to properly walk without squeaking her damn shoes. 

By a stroke of luck, the guard never turned back around – at least not until their exit was marred by his shell smacking into a panel on their way out. As a loud _clang_ reverberated through the empty stadium, Mikey broke into a run, pulling Lisa with him. 

They were already around a corner and on their way into a vent by the time that guard called out a startled, “Who’s there?!” 

Mikey hefted Lisa up to help her crawl into the vents, then followed her up. Once inside they held gazes, then dissolved into quiet giggles. 

She mouthed, _Oh my god!_

Nodding, he mouthed back, _Let’s go_ , with a gesture forward. 

She held up a finger for patience, patting her heart. She took a slow breath, shook out her hands, shivered; obviously this was her first time doing anything like this. If they didn’t have to be so quiet, he would be kissing the hell out of her right then. 

As they finally started the slow crawl out, he found himself thinking over the night’s events. Meeting her in the tunnels, dropping her off at a station with a ticket, sneaking up on her later, surfing through the sewers to the stadium (and their tumble-turned-makeout therein), their sneaking into place, that hot-as- _fuck_ makeout later into the evening, and now their escape back out again. 

He was so, so, _so_ happy he’d taken her out to this concert. So much so that when he got back home, he heralded his return with a shout: 

## “I’M IN LOVE!!” 

Two exhausted groans told him that his brothers had been asleep; as Raph was the only one with a door (aside from Splinter), Leo and Donnie were now both awake. 

But while an annoyed grumble was the only thing to come from Donnie’s room, Leo’s voice carried over with a sharp, aggravated tone: _“Go to bed.”  
_

Yeah, sure, no problem! “Tell you all about it in the morning!” Mikey called as he practically skipped to his room. He kind of wanted to talk about it now, willingness be damned, but after the way he’d left Lisa – constantly pulling her back in for another kiss every time she turned away for a full-on ten minutes – he had a certain _thing_ he needed to take care of. 

His _boner._

* * *

It was so damn late when Lisa got home. She’d been expecting this to some extent, but she _hadn’t_ expected to be out until one in the morning. She tiptoed into the apartment as quietly as she could, hoping to sneak in without waking Sam; luck was _not_ with her this night. 

From the darkened kitchen came a soft, “Have fun tonight?” 

Jumping, she yelped out a sharp, “OH MY GOD!!” For god’s sake, he just _had_ to spook her, didn’t he? Glowering at him, she flipped on the light to find him in his boxers on a kitchen stool, arms crossed. She hissed, “Tryna give me a heart attack?” 

“Why not? You gave _me_ one,” he hinted darkly. 

She groaned. “Look, I’m late, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run so late. But now I’m exhausted and just wanna sleep, okay?” She was already heading for her room, but stopped when Sam spoke again. 

“Who is he?” 

Glancing back, she ventured, “What?” It was incredible that she managed to avoid tripping over that word, to be honest. Already her calming heart was starting to speed back up again. 

“Whoever you went out with,” Sam clarified. “Who is he?” 

Knowing denial would get her nowhere, she gave an empty shrug. “My boyfriend.” 

Gaze darkening, he bit out, “And why haven’t I met him yet?” 

“First,” she started, suspicious, “how do you even know about him?” For obvious reasons she’d never brought Mikey home – hell, she’d never spoken about him. Her NDA was probably still in effect, even. 

“Phone calls,” Sam answered. His eyes, she noticed, were concerned. “I’ve heard you talking to him. You call him ‘baby boy’ sometimes.” 

She looked away, shame descending. _Because you’d freak the hell out,_ she thought. Choosing her words carefully, she replied, “Cause I know you.” 

He was quiet for a long moment, then started, “Every guy you’ve ever known–”

“I know,” she interrupted sharply; he went on, ignoring her. 

“–has wanted nothing but–” 

“I _know_ ,” she hissed. 

“–your body. Lisa…it’s 1a.m. You’ve never been out this late before,” he hinted. 

Feeling a blush start to creep up, she murmured, “Nothing happened, Sam. We went to a concert. That’s why I was out so late.” 

Another lengthy pause, then he said, “I need to meet him. See what he’s like,” he demanded, even as she shook her head. 

“No.” 

Earlier tonight she’d thought of how hard it was for her to say ‘no’. When it came to her family, it’d been totally impossible – at least where requests were concerned. This was the first time in memory she’d ever shot down one of her brother’s requests. 

He realized it, too; he gave her this shocked look, like he didn’t know who he was looking at anymore. 

Getting up, he crossed over to her, an obvious concern to his gaze that had her averting her own. 

Turning her face back around, he said, “I need to know who this guy is, Lise.” 

“Can we talk about this later?” she asked, both because she didn’t want to argue and because she was _seriously_ tired. “I just wanna go to bed.” 

“Just give me his name, at least,” he pressed. 

“No.” 

“Lise…” he sighed. 

_“No.”_

“Why the hell not?” he demanded, patience wearing thin. 

“Because I don’t want to fight with you,” she snapped. 

“But you will,” he realized, dumbfounded. “You’ll fight with me…over him?” 

Yes, she would, and that particular revelation surprised her. She gave Sam a steady, unflinching look, saying, “I need you to trust me.” 

He was quiet for a moment, then swallowed with a little nod. “You know I do,” he told her, “but this…it scares me. I don’t want you getting hurt again, Lise.” 

An understandable fear. Just recalling what’d happened the last time she grew invested in a boy…

…well, some scars went deeper than the skin. 

But _that_ boy wasn’t _Mikey_. 

“I won’t be,” she assured him. “Mi– uh, my guy?” she started, then corrected herself before she could slip and say his name. “He’s really good to me. You don’t have to worry.” 

Shaking his head, Sam said, “Course I’m gonna worry. You won’t tell me anything about him – how can I not freak out about that?” 

Now _she_ paused, gathering her thoughts. After a moment she ventured, “I’m an adult now, Sam. I can take care of myself. And…” Awkward, she shifted, then bluntly finished, “And you’re my brother, not my father. Unless I ask for your help, I don’t need it.” 

She knew that was going to crush him – Sam, the guardian? Yeah, it was going to wreck him, trying to come to terms with this. But, honestly, she wasn’t getting bullied in school anymore. She didn’t need him to hunt down anyone. She didn’t need him to protect her. 

She had Mikey for that now. 

Pushing past the obvious hurt she could see in her brother’s eyes, she said, “You know I love you, bro, and I appreciate everything you do for me. But this is my life now, and if I wanna stay out late with my boyfriend, I can. If I wanna keep him a secret, that’s my decision. If I need you for anything, I’ll say so. Until then…” Reaching out, she patted his arm, finishing, “Trust me.” 

She turned from him then, heading to her bedroom. The worst part was seeing a certain wetness to his eyes as she did so, but, honestly…it had to be done. She wasn’t the same timid teen who’d so often run to her big brother for help. She had a job, a life, a web of friends, a hobby she loved more than anything…

She wasn’t a little girl anymore. 

Trying to lighten the heavy moment, though, she tossed over her shoulder, “And go to bed,” on her way to her room. 

The small half-laugh Sam gave said he wasn’t _too_ upset, at least. 

Once back in her room, door shut and locked (for good measure), Lisa started to finally peel off her layers. Mikey had obviously been distressed over her health all night, but what he didn’t know was that she _had_ dressed “light” – or as light as she _could_ while keeping certain things secret. 

Just her binder and a hoodie had been utilized: the binder to hide her breasts and the hoodie to hide her scars. Honestly, she’d tried out every top she owned first, checking to see what was and wasn’t visible in each of them for the first time since buying each one. None of her long-sleeve shirts had been thick enough to hide her binder, and none of her short-sleeve tops hid her scars. 

She’d done the best she could without revealing too much. 

Now, though…now she breathed a sigh of relief as the clothes were tossed aside. It’d been uncomfortable, wearing those two together; the binder was just plain tight, making it hard to breathe, and couple that with her warm hoodie…

There’d been sweat. She wanted to go to sleep but she’d need to deal with the sweat before she got a damn rash from it. With a groan, she slipped on a shirt and headed for the bathroom. Sam was in bed by now, she thought, the light off in his room. Good. That’d give her a little time. 

The shower was _immediately_ helpful, washing away the grimy feeling clinging to her skin. And as she went through the motions – washing off and brushing her teeth just cause she was in the shower again so why not? – her mind wandered. Specifically, her mind wandered back to that _heavy_ makeout session inside the jumbotron. 

That was…really something else, she thought. The way Mikey kissed her was always laced with eagerness, but in retrospect she recognized how _needy_ he’d been, too. It’d been hard to notice anything but her own needs in the heat of the moment; now she saw all the little details she’d missed before. 

Tiny twitches, little jerks, the fact that he’d been churring and she hadn’t even been aware of it, even the way his tongue tended to flick over her piercing when they kissed…it all painted a picture, and that picture was pure need. Hell, she was starting to think he’d been fighting with himself, too; at first she thought his hands, fisting at her back, had been him pulling her closer – now she thought he’d done it just to keep his hands in one place.  

To _stop_ himself from going further. 

That adorable boy of hers – he was really something else, wasn’t he? Trying so hard not to give her too much, and there she was, just obliviously pushing all his buttons. That must’ve been _torture_ for him. 

Recalling the – ahem – _proud_ _salute_ his lower extremity had been giving after they’d stopped made that abundantly clear. And though she’d been awkward as hell at the moment, now that she could look back… _ohmygod_ that was hot. 

Lisa hadn’t often contemplated male anatomy, let alone fantasized about it (a necessity thanks to her loveless life thus far), so the moment she caught herself imagining how that particular bulge might feel to the touch, her face caught fire. 

But, well…she was alone. In the shower. Totally concealed from judging eyes. And the fact that she’d avoided fantasizing about boys didn’t mean she hadn’t learned how to masturbate, so… 

She was about to answer the call starting in her lower half when she realized she really _shouldn’t_ be doing this in the shower. It was wasteful – and while her and Sam might be living comfortably now that they each had a job, she should still make sure not to waste anything, including water. 

Besides, masturbating in bed was _way_ more comfortable. Decided, she finished up her shower and hurried to bed, locking and then double-checking that her door was, indeed, locked before going to her window to do the same. Satisfied that all was well, she tossed off her towel, laid back, and allowed the images to flow. 

Mikey was in the center of her visions, and she imagined more than just sounds and sensations – she imagined _acts_. Like, what would’ve happened if, when she noticed his poor, aching erection, she’d done something about that? What if she’d just reached out and started petting it? He’d have loved it, she thought; affectionate boy like him would’ve killed for it. Hell, he might’ve been thinking about it right then, too. 

But what if she’d done more than just rub him through his shorts? What if, by some miracle, she’d tapped into some measure of confidence to give him a bit more? Ignoring that she was one hundred percent a virgin, never having given or received any kind of sexual act, she thought she understood how to pleasure a boy well enough to build a scenario. 

In her mind, Lisa imagined so many little iterations of the same scene: pulling his erection free of its bind to pet it, getting down on her knees to suck on it, even having him sit on the floor so she could curl up between his legs. She imagined his dick by default rules – human-shaped but green – and liked what her mind came up with. 

While she thought on this, she pet _herself_ , fingers daring to stroke her own heated flesh. While her mind showed her devouring Mikey’s hard shaft, she masturbated. And when she pondered what might’ve happened if she hadn’t stopped his grinding on her, the scene unfolding into stripping and body-kissing, her motions grew frantic. 

God, it felt good to do this – not just to masturbate, but to do so while imaging herself actually having sex. She’d never done so before, had never trusted a boy enough to let him into her fantasies; the fact that she so willingly did so now for Mikey should’ve frightened her. 

Instead, it excited her. 

In her fantasy, he marveled at her breasts, but while she cringed in both fantasy and reality, he soothed that easily. 

_You’re so beautiful,_ he said. 

She heard herself moan. 

Her scene didn’t get to go much farther. Turned on as she was, fingers rapidly circling and stroking her slick clit with increasingly uncoordinated motions, she was done as soon as her vision Mikey started kissing and sucking on her breasts. It was too much; just imagining how that might feel threw her over the edge without a parachute. 

Shoving a hand to her mouth to muffle herself, she moaned and whimpered, body bucking as her orgasm hit her. _Oh, god, oh, my god, oh, god…_ She tried to hang onto the fantasy but her mind blanked, leaving her with nothing but the incredible pleasure of her climax. Her hips desperately sought what wasn’t there – namely a very particular boy…

She shuddered in the aftermath, then went totally limp, lungs heaving for air and heart racing. A little post-orgasmic quiver went through her every so often as she calmed, and she couldn’t resist keeping up some gentle strokes to ride out the last of them. 

Holy. _Shit._

A few months back, Lisa had been hanging out with some of her DJ friends. Three women, to be exact. They’d begun chatting about sex, so Lisa had put in her earphones to tune it out, but in between songs she’d caught little comments here and there. 

Lexa, enthusiastic, had said, “Oh, _so_ much better than masturbating.” 

“Right?” Regina had agreed. “There’s masturbating, then there’s _coming_.” 

Lisa had been quick to turn her volume up, but those few words had been seared into her mind ever since. Not knowing the exact context of their chat hadn’t helped matters; if anything, it left far too much up to the imagination. Had they been talking about boys, toys, _girls?_ Regardless, now she was starting to get what they’d meant. 

She’d masturbated plenty of times before, but she’d never come quite like _that_. And, following that train of thought, it made her wonder how good sex would be… 

As these thoughts flitted by, lethargy suffused her. After the late night full of activity now coupled with an orgasm, she was asleep before she could think to crawl under the covers, let alone to get some clean-up done. 

Still, the last thing to come to mind as her exhausted mind drifted off was a surprising vivid vision of Mikey coming to lean over her and kiss her on the neck. If she hadn’t been so sleepy, she would’ve reflexively told him ‘good night’, so clear was the sensation. 

A little thought quietly settled in the back of her mind: 

_You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me._


	14. Giving

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing/sexual references) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

“You ready?” 

Lisa answered him with a solid nod, arms tightening around his neck. 

They were almost at the waterslide entrance to the Lair. Mikey had her in his arms – again; man he loved carrying her like this – as they shot through the canals. It was finally Sunday and everything had been confirmed ahead of time. Splinter, his brothers, and even Jocelyn agreed that this was okay. Everyone was fine with Lisa coming to visit.

She was visibly nervous, though, he could see; she kept chewing on her lip and glancing forward, a little more tightly curled up than she needed to be. Knowing how much she enjoyed movement, he decided to do something a little fun when they reached the bottom – both to calm her down a bit and because he didn’t really want her to end up soaked. 

It’d be sexy as hell, he thought, but she’d probably get cold. He didn’t want her cold. At least their electronics weren’t an issue; his backpack was waterproof specifically for this particular trick and that’s where they’d stashed everything of a technological nature. 

When the slide dipped to its final descent and she saw the canal ahead of them – not a grate to drain the water, like she was used to – she clung tighter. Oh yeah, he thought, she _definitely_ didn’t want to end up swimming. So when they reached the bottom, he kicked off the slide to flip over the railing to their right, one hand cradling his cargo while the other seized the railing to ensure they made the perfect arc. 

Lisa _yelped_ from the sudden move; then, as soon as he had her on her feet, she dissolved into giggles. 

Proud of himself, Mikey commented, “And that’s how you do the Hokey Pokey.”

Laughing harder, she playfully whapped his arm. “Funny, Mikey,” she said, and, _god_ he liked that. 

Sure, his sense of humor was stellar and he knew it, but having it confirmed…having his _girlfriend_ enjoy it…it was the greatest. The way she said that – _funny, Mikey_ – got to him. She wasn’t making a joke like Raph so often did. 

She legit liked his wisecracks and shared his humor. They _meshed_. 

Now filled with a sweet, needy emotion, he pulled her in to give her a kiss. The move surprised her, the smallest jerk going through her as he brought their lips together. She was so responsive, though, leaning in closer as her arms slid around his neck, accepting and reciprocating his public display of affection – 

“Ahem.” 

That passive-aggressive noise had Mikey rolling his eyes and Lisa yanking back from him with a panicked, “Oh, my god…” 

He couldn’t help side-glaring at Leo – who, honestly, was looking amused. Great, that meant Big Blue enjoyed being a massive cockblock. Noted. 

To Lisa, Mikey commented, “So, babycakes, you remember Leo…” 

“Vividly,” she quipped with a dry tone that suggested _exactly_ how she felt about the eldest. 

Leo grinned at that, replying, “Nice to see you again, Lisa. Welcome to our home.” 

It was then that Lisa started to look around for the first time. And, just like what had happened with Jocelyn and April before her, Lisa was thunderstruck; the longer she gazed around, the more impressed she seemed. Her eyes latched onto every light and bright color, head tilting back to look way up at the pipes above them, then down at the canal snaking through the Lair. 

When Mikey heard her murmur, “Holy crud,” a huge grin split his face. 

“You think this’s cool?” he challenged. “Wait till you see all the rooms.” 

Lifting her hands over her head, Lisa blurted, “I’d kill to have this much open space! And you have _rooms_ , too?” Giving a pained groan, she complained, “You’re killin’ me, here.” 

“That’s fine, I saw Frankenstein,” he told her. “I can revive you again.” 

She snorted. 

He gave her a full tour next, going through each of the rooms and greeting his family as he encountered them. Donnie couldn’t pay much attention – he had an experiment going that he “had to watch, every second” for the time being – and Raph and Jo were both in the weights room – working out and dancing, respectively. Splinter was idly watching from his alcove, his dark eyes keeping trained on the youngsters with silent contemplation. 

By the time Mikey brought Lisa back into the main chamber, Leo was gone. With everyone busy doing their own things, that meant Mikey now had time to do whatever he liked with Lisa. He’d seen her eying the skate room with interest (and _yes_ , he freely admitted his heart had flipped when he noticed), but he’d saved the best for last. 

“And now,” he told her, leading her through the kitchen and up to the elevated area, “the _pièce de résistance_!” When she gave him a curious, suspicious look, he intoned, “ _My_ room.” 

A mixture of excitement and apprehension _immediately_ took root in her gaze, but she didn’t falter or back down. Nodding, she commented, “Okay. Let’s see if my predictions were correct.” 

Predictions? Oh, now he _had_ to know what she’d envisioned. “Yeah? What’d you imagine so far?” he prompted, the arch of his room rapidly approaching. 

“Some kind of older entertainment system, something Sega maybe,” she said, “definitely a bean bag or two, and a collection of hacky sacks.” 

Her assessment had him stopping dead, giving her a look of disbelief. She’d seriously nailed _all_ of those! 

Grinning, she stopped with him and checked, “Am I right? I’m right, right?” 

Shaking out of his mild stun, he replied, “Girl, you got me in a box.” 

She giggled. “Score!” she declared with a fist pump. Then, sobering, she added, “Well, c’mon. I expect to be surprised by something, at least.” 

Well, she _hadn’t_ guessed he owned a comic collection, too, so he had that. Taking her hand – and giving it a quick kiss; she glanced away, chewing on her lip – he quipped, “Hope you brought your yellow pants.” 

She snorted – _hard_ , pitching forward from the force of it. “Oh, eww, c’mon,” she laughed. 

Letting that one die without complaint, he led her the rest of the way into his room, brushing the curtain aside for her. She was already gaping, wide-eyed, before she even stepped past the threshold. Unsure whether she’d feel more comfortable with the curtain open or closed, he let it fall askew, a little gap between the archway and cloth. Hopefully that’d do the trick. 

And, yeah, he was feeling kind of nervous – he had a _girl_ in his _room!_ In his _bedroom_ , looking at _his stuff!!_ This was a dream come true, but at the same time he had the acute realization of exactly how long it’d been since he’d washed the stone floor and cleaned the bright orange rug in the middle of the room. 

God, why hadn’t he thought ahead about this?! He should’ve done a spring cleaning as soon as he’d gotten the all-clear to bring her here! 

He wanted her to like everything of his, from his clothing to his room to his string of orange Christmas lights around the entryway. This wasn’t a new desire for him, but rather a suddenly pressing one. He found himself carefully eying her, reading body language and expression to figure out how she felt. 

He needn’t have bothered; after a moment of stun she was rattling off about everything in sight. “Is that seriously a Spongebob curtain?” she laughed, referring to his shower curtain on their left. “Wait, hang on, you have a stereo with racing stripes??” she demanded, attention veering to the dresser at the foot of his bed. Then, gasping, she spotted his _massive_ bean bag. “Is that – is that seriously a bean bag?!” 

“Yep,” he agreed easily. It was in three distinct colors: green, yellow, and orange…and it was big enough to be a bed. 

“How the h– how’d you get one so big?!” she demanded, stalking over to it. 

“Made it,” he answered. She swung huge, shocked eyes on him, drawing a chuckle out of him. He explained, “I cut up three bags, sewed them together, then filled ‘em. Go ahead,” he added with a gesture at the ‘guest bed’, as he liked to call it. 

Without hesitation she threw herself onto it, giggling as she did so. And it felt good, watching her. Her approval soothed something in him, replacing tense nerves with satisfaction. Not to mention she looked so adorable, swallowed up by the confines of the bean bag, the soft corduroy material seeming to devour her whole as she giggled madly. 

Coming closer, he offered her a hand, helping her back to her feet. A little snow angel-type imprint remained, and they both chuckled at it. Then, standing so close together, the moment seemed to thicken around them. 

He had a girl in his room, he thought again – not just _any_ girl, either. This wasn’t April or Jo or Charlize Theron. This was Lisa, _his_ Lisa, the girl he’d already fallen for and bragged to his brothers about on _multiple_ occasions. In fact…he felt that now would be a _great_ time to tell her. 

It’d been hard not saying so over their texts and calls during the last few days, the knowledge that he was in love like a constant energy bursting to free itself from inside him. But he’d damn well waited, biding his time until he could see her – and tell her – in person. Maybe it was super fast, admitting that he was in love after just a few weeks together, but he couldn’t deny what he felt. 

And, he thought, she deserved to know just how much adored her. 

“Lisa, I–” 

“Mikey, I–” 

Pausing mid-word, they both laughed. Okay, this was just getting absurd now. Trying to voice a thought at the same time was becoming a weird kind of _thing_ for them. 

Figuring what he had to say was bigger than whatever _she_ had in mind, he gestured her. “You go first,” he suggested. 

He almost immediately regretted giving her the green light, because over the next few seconds she grew increasingly nervous. Maybe what he had to say _wasn’t_ the bigger thing… 

He was about to say something, let her off the proverbial hook, when Lisa took a step back and began, “S-so, this – you bringing me here? It’s, like…really big…” 

“Not really,” he disagreed, concern rising. Where was she going with this? 

She gave him an annoyed look. “You’re mutant ninjas living under the sewers and the whole Foot clan and whatever is your enemy. It’s big,” she intoned. 

Well, when she put it like _that_ … 

Then, glancing down and idly twisting her fingers about, she went on, “I think it, uh…it shows a lot of trust. In me. So I was thinking…” Trailing off, she muttered something too low to catch, her nervous motions increasing from twisting fingers to rubbing her own forearms. 

Okay. He was starting to get the idea that whatever was going on in her head, it _might_ be bigger than his confession. Unsure whether he should interrupt to say his piece first or let the already-rolling ball continue its course, he stepped in to bring them closer again. 

“Lisa, hey,” he started, lifting her chin to bring her eyes up to his. “Whatever this is, you don’t have to talk about it now. It’s obviously upsetting you, and I don’t want that. It’s not–” 

“Mikey,” she interrupted softly, “I want to do this. I do. I wanna give you something back, y’know? Kinda like a…a trading of trust, instead of just _you_ giving to _me_ , y’know?” 

Oh, god. She wasn’t saying what he _thought_ she was saying, was she? His mind went right to the gutter, though he fought against it – she might very well mean something else and the last thing he wanted was to make this situation worse by getting a boner. 

He did his best to lighten the mood by commenting, “Aw, shucks, toots, gonna make me blush.” 

She chuckled. _Mission accomplished._

Sobering a bit, he added more quietly, “But seriously, Lisa…this is making you so uncomfortable. Whatever this is, it doesn’t have to be _now.”  
_

“That’s the thing, though, isn’t it?” she murmured, eyes locked on his. “This isn’t about ‘has to’. It’s about ‘want to’. And I wanna give you something back,” she told him. “You’ve already given _me_ a lot…it’s not fair, y’know?” 

He swallowed, now having a _much_ harder time keeping his mind out of that gutter. His bed was just to his left, so close he could nudge it with his foot if he wanted to. 

_Right. There._

Imaging his cutie patootie Lisa draped over his covers had infected his thoughts – in various stages of undress – and now he couldn’t get it out. God, if she really was thinking of giving him sex in this ‘exchange of trust’, as she’d put it, he was going to have a _really_ hard time turning her down. 

He didn’t want to, of course, but her body language was so tense… No, she wasn’t ready for that kind of intimacy. No matter what she said or did, he had to keep it together. Deciding on giving her a firm talking-to on the matter, he put his humor on hold for the moment. 

“Lisa, you don’t–” 

“I mean it’s not like–” 

Just like that, the heavy moment shattered and they both started laughing again. God damn it, how was he supposed to have a serious conversation with her when they kept doing this?! 

“Oh, my god,” she keened in between laughs. Struggling to keep a straight face, she said, “W-what were you gonna say?” 

_Well,_ Mikey thought, _I was gonna tell you not to sell yourself to me like some kinda porn mag._ He figured that wouldn’t go over well, though, now that he had a second to think about it. Besides, the way she’d started her sentence had him intrigued. 

He hedged, “Just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We have the whole night to hang out. There’s no rush.” 

She thought on that, then said, “I know… I mean, good point and everything, but I wanna get this out of the way first.” _Um, what?_ “Before I lose my nerve,” she added more to herself. 

Okay, what the hell? 

That cast whole new doubts on his thought train. Unless he was reading her totally wrong, she found him attractive and had enjoyed all their makeouts and stuff thus far. But the only way her words fit with his thoughts was if she found him repulsive, instead, and considered anything sex-related a chore at best. 

Which meant…god, his head wasn’t built for this kind of critical thinking…but it meant she _didn’t_ have sex stuff planned, that this big reveal of hers was something else entirely. Right? It was the only thing that made sense. 

But what else could it–

 _Ding!_ Light bulb. 

_Her bullying._

Well, now he just felt stupid. The whole time while she’d been mustering up the courage to talk about her scars, he’d been thinking about _sex_. A sudden embarrassment hit him, followed quickly by a shift in mood; beyond his chagrin, he felt a wash of warmth and a newfound surge of affection suffuse him. 

She’d chosen _now_ to talk about her secrets, to do her little trust exchange, to return a gift of his with something of hers. Recalling how badly she’d resisted talking about it before, the pains she was willing to endure to avoid it…the fact that she’d probably never opened up about this before… It all made him feel _full_. Too many emotions were clambering around inside him, desperate to be shown. 

Surprise, disbelief, appreciation, love…and a little hint of fear. After all, for her to be this reluctant meant her past had some serious blows to it. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear about the things which had burned her so bad. But on the other hand…

She was abut to give him something she’d never given to another. Thinking about that, he realized suddenly that taking her to his home and hanging out with her in his room was _nothing_ by comparison. She said she wanted to give him something of ‘equal value’, but she was, in fact, giving him something downright priceless. 

He wasn’t sure he owned anything of equal value to _that_ – aside from his own heart. 

Deeply touched, Mikey reached out to stroke her cheek. “Hey,” he started, gentle as he could manage. “I appreciate this, but if you need more time, you have it.” 

She smiled, eyes watering. “You’re too sweet, baby boy,” she told him. 

God, he loved it when she called him that. “Like straight-up honey,” he agreed. And, now that he thought about it, honey was gold in color. Practically orange. 

A perfect fit. 

She snorted. “What would that make you, a honeybee?” 

“Yep!” he agreed lightly. In fact, he took an immediate shine to that comparison. Michelangelo, the honeybee. Har-har. 

Giggling, she checked, “You’re not lettin’ that go, are you?” 

“Uh-uh.” He was keeping it in his back pocket for the foreseeable future, even.  

“Noted.” She lifted a hand to his, turning her face into his palm. 

It made his heart thud hard, that sweet motion hitting him like a sledgehammer. Edging closer, he brought his free hand to her opposite cheek, then dropped his head to rest his forehead against hers. Smiling, he thought how cute she was and how warm it felt right then, sharing this small, innocently intimate moment. 

Then Lisa reached up, both hands coming to drift across _his_ cheeks, and he _felt_ his emotions go wild. It was everything he could do to not squeal and shout in joy. 

Thanks entirely to a few conversations with Jocelyn that’d led to some googling on his own time, Mikey now knew more about himself – and namely his breed – than he ever had before. He’d simply never been interested enough in Red-Eared Sliders to bother looking up info on them. 

That changed after he started noticing that Jo had a series of actions she used to calm down Raph when he was in a mood. Mikey had been just intrigued enough to ask her about that, and she’d explained that she’d looked up turtle info to learn everything she could about their host species. Now she used that knowledge to get through to Raph when he started losing himself. 

One of the things she’d learned, then told Mikey about? The face-petting. Males did it females as part of a courtship. Females returned the gesture when they accepted. Unsurprisingly, it soothed Raph whenever he grew agitated. 

It was _only_ thanks to knowing this that kept Mikey from flipping his shit right then. Lisa had no idea what she was communicating to him through his instincts; she was just being affectionate. While his emotions rioted between raw need and sweet love, wanting to both cuddle and churr with her and makeout _hardcore_ , he started a chant in his mind: 

_She doesn’t know, she’s just being cute, she has no idea – keep it together, dude!_

But, god, it was hard. He had to stop this if he was going to maintain control – which, to be honest, was a real shame. Someday he hoped to be able to just bask with her, no boundaries and no worries, but until then they were going to need a certain distance. 

He supposed the smart thing to do would be to tell Lisa about the whole face petting thing…but he didn’t _want_ to. It was weirdly embarrassing and besides which, it would just end up adding to her list of stresses. Maybe someday he’d tell her; that day was not _this_ day. 

Drawing back a little, he caught one of her wrists to place a kiss on her palm. She bit her lip on a wide smile, dropping her gaze. 

He said, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” 

Glancing up again, she checked, “I thought you said you wanted to know everything about me?” 

“I do,” he agreed with a nod. “But I also respect that not everything can be told. I won’t force this,” he assured her. 

His words seemed to hit her square in the heart. Once more her eyes took on a wet shine, but the smile she gave him said he’d made her happy. 

“Well,” she murmured, “that just makes me wanna talk even more.” 

“And so my brilliant plan unfolds,” he quipped. 

She chuckled. Then, sobering, she took a step back, opened her mouth – only to pause, glancing at the entrance. Holding up a finger, she stalked over to the curtain and yanked it fully closed. 

Okay, she wanted total privacy for this. Mikey wondered if he should warn her about the Lair’s acoustics, but she distracted him by quickly – almost frantically – unzipping her hoodie. Her back was to him as she worked, yanking off the sleeves and then draping the hoodie over her arm. 

Turning back to him, she hooked a thumb under the sleeveless top she wore underneath, asking, “Do…d’you know what this is?” 

No? It just looked like any other wife beater shirt, plain beige in color, though he could see it looked extra thick and tight around her chest. “A…shirt?” he checked, certain he was wrong but having no clue what else it could be. 

Hesitant, she ventured, “It’s a…it’s a binder.” The look she gave him was tentatively hopeful, like she was praying he knew what that was so she wouldn’t have to explain. 

Wincing, he replied, “I have no idea what that is.” 

She exhaled a soft sigh. Then, nervousness increasing, she started shifting in place and hugging herself, looking away. “It’s a thing that…trans men wear. Mom started making them years ago. Turns out female cosplayers order them a lot, to cosplay as dudes.” 

He tried to connect the dots there, honestly he did. But the only thing that made sense was… 

“So…you’re a trans man?” he asked. If so, then why did she still use female pronouns and call herself ‘Lisa’? And if that wasn’t it, why would she wear a binder? 

He didn’t have that great a problem with the idea, now that he was presented with it. Lisa turning out to be trans would be a shock – provided she confirmed it – but he loved her regardless. It would just…change a few dynamics. That was all. A part of him would mourn not having a _girl_ friend any longer, but hell, _boy_ friends were just as good. 

Lisa looked surprised at his question. Probably not trans then, he concluded with a little wave of relief. Her face darkened a little as she replied, “N-no, that’s not… Yeah, sorry, this was planned out way better in my head. No, I’m not trans,” she told him. “I’m just, uh…” 

Her fidgeting immediately got worse. Watching how her hands wrung and leg shook and how she kept chewing on her lip wrenched at his heart. For her own sake, he had to stop this. 

Striding up to her, Mikey caught her hands, stopping her just as she was starting to scratch herself. She looked down; he pulled her chin up. “Lisa,” he called when she kept her eyes shut, avoiding him any way she could. She didn’t open her eyes again, so he went on anyway. 

“Stop,” he told her. “You’re scared. That hurts, y’know? Whatever this is, I’m not gonna think less of you for it. So just…drop it for now.” 

_Now_ she looked at him, but instead of agreeing with him, she just said, “Hold me?”

 _Done._

He brought his arms around her, cuddling her against him. As his hand lifted to stroke her hair, she snuggled into him, her hands coming up under his arms to hang onto his shoulders. It felt so warm and secure to him; he hoped Lisa felt the same thing. 

Then she began talking again, telling him that this had been a calculated move on her part. Clever. 

Quiet as could be, she explained, “I wear binders cause I…I hate myself.” 

He had an _immediate_ impulse to shout then – to yell denials, tell her that she should never hate herself – but knowing that would ruin her fragile courage stopped him. She was going somewhere with this; he had to let her get to it. 

“I was…an early bloomer, they call it,” she told him. “Started developing, um…a-a chest…in fifth grade. In sixth grade I was wearing bras. Most girls don’t need to get one until, like, seventh or eighth grade. Everyone else noticed…and that’s when the bullying started…” 

As she spoke, his mind had gone ahead to puzzle this out. Was she saying she had big tits? And she’d been _bullied_ because of that? It made sense for her to wear a binder, now! A certain kind of excitement hit him as he realized his girlfriend was _gifted_ , but it was dampened by the knowledge that she’d endured bullying for it. What the hell kind of jackass bullied a girl because of her _breasts?!  
_

Starting to pull back to look down at her, he blurted, “Wait, people bullied you cause of your _boobs?”_

Shocked, she hushed him with a sharp, “Shhh, hey!! Not so loud!” Obviously uncomfortable as could be, she looked away, face a deep pink. 

Right. The acoustics. The curtain doorway. His brothers. Haha. 

Rapidly trying to figure out how to make this better, he glanced back to his stereo, forming a little plan. Then, to Lisa, he said, “Uh, sit down,” with a gesture at the bed. As she looked at it, he moved back to pick up his little boombox. Flipping it to the radio and turning it on, he turned it towards the doorway and let music fill the room. 

[](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2FximFjhREL6U&t=ZTcyZmFlMDA3YTJkNWJiZGM5YmE5NzM4NWMzYzhlMTllMGYxZjQwNSx3QUxXOWZDNQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F174475308674%2Fthe-dj-part-14&m=0)_Come Mr. DJ song pon de replay_  
Come Mr. DJ won’t you turn the music up  
All de gal pon de dance floor wantin some more  
Come Mr. DJ won’t you turn the music up 

Lisa took a seat on the bed, only to sink low with a surprised yelp. Then, laughing, she said, “You have a waterbed?!” 

He winced again, though he was amused this time. He’d forgotten to warn her about that. “Yeah. Like it?” he asked, coming to toss himself beside her so she was sloshed and jostled. 

She giggled from the move, amused. “Yeah, I do,” she told him. “I’ve never seen one in the flesh.” 

Really? Grinning, he said, “Well, now you have.” 

Nodding, she shifted, learning how to sit on a waterbed. The previous levity quickly faded away again, a heavy feeling settling back in place. 

As soon as she was balanced, she looked down, hands in her lap fiddling and twisting. And it was weird, but he noticed she still had her hoodie over her arm. She could’ve put it aside by now; did she not think that was okay? 

“You can drop the hoodie anywhere,” he told her then. 

Glancing at it, she replied, “I-I know…I wanna hold it for now.” 

O….kay? 

She took a deep breath, then began again, “So, um…yeah. I was bullied cause of…” 

She didn’t finish, but he’d gotten the idea. Scooting closer to her, he looped an arm around her, tugging her against him. She went easily, leaning her head on his chest in a way that gave him a shot of joy despite the heavy conversation topic. 

As much as he didn’t want to distress her by keeping talking about this, he was confused by it – how and why would anyone tease a young girl about her chest? And he thought…maybe Lisa needed to talk about it more. She said she hated herself, after all. How could he ever help her get over that if they didn’t talk about it? 

“Go on,” he invited gently. “Whatever’s in your head, tell me.” 

She hesitated another second, then began, “It was horrible. Coming home every day with my head down cause the shouts followed me out of school. Sometimes kids on bikes would follow me for a while, hounding me the whole way. Sam would’ve helped, and he hated that he couldn’t, but he was already in Junior High. He’s three years older than me,” she told Mikey. “My whole Junior High life, he couldn’t be there.” 

_God_. This was clearly worse than he’d thought. Kids following her home, just to keep harassing her about her body’s natural development? He gave her a warm hug, squeezing her reassuringly. 

“Well,” he said, “you’ll get none of that here. If anyone does it again, tell me. I’ll toss ‘em off a bridge.” 

She gave a soft laugh. “I bet,” she agreed quietly. 

He was totally serious, but if it was more comforting for her to think it was a joke, he let her think so. 

After a moment she ventured, “Big Lisa. That’s what they used to call me. I hated it so much, and the more I hated it, the more they kept it up. God damn kids,” she added in a low whisper. 

_Big Lisa._ Mikey recalled those jerks at the club calling her that. No wonder she’d looked so pissed. He hadn’t caught much of what they’d said, but those words had stuck out. He also hadn’t been listening so much as watching, poised and tense in case things turned physical. It was almost a miracle he’d heard even that much. 

Hesitant, he asked, “What else did they use to say?” He still wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he _did_ want her to get it out. Bottling it all up couldn’t be good for her. 

Wincing, she answered, “The girls…usually they’d call me a slut and a whore. Sixth grade girls,” she murmured to herself, “calling another girl a slut…” 

Okay, now he wanted to hunt down those girls and strangle them. Not all the way to death, of course – just until they were knocked out. Considering Mikey had never before imagined himself hurting a girl, that was a pretty big revelation. 

“And the guys…it got worse by the year,” she said more to herself than him, “but it was mostly, like… ‘Ooh, you tryin’ to get my attention with those?’” 

….Okay, maybe Mikey wouldn’t strangle those girls to death, but he definitely wanted to strangle the _guys_ to death. Who the hell thought that kind of talk was acceptable? Who was raising these kids in such shitty ways? Maybe if Splinter had raised them all they wouldn’t be such disrespectful assholes–

Lisa yelped then, jolting against him and yanking away from where his hand was settled on her side. In a snap, he realized his grip had gotten _way_ hard and, wincing, he snatched his hands back from her. 

“Sorry, ohmygod, Lisa, I’m so sorry,” he apologized in a rush. 

Rubbing her side, she gave him a weak smile. “S’alright. It’s just…ow, y’know? I’m okay,” she assured him. 

She soothed his horror pretty easily; she just had to lean back into him. And now that he was forcibly keeping hold of his emotions – not an easy task, as once the anger passed he felt sorrow in its place – he found himself thinking back to how this had started. 

_I wanna give you something of equal value_. 

But she’d given him so much more than that. She’d shown him her deepest scars. What else could a good boyfriend do but return the gesture? 

“Lisa…I wanna thank you for sharing this with me,” he started, giving her a little squeeze. “And if it’s okay with you…I wanna share my secrets, too.” 

Intrigued, she glanced up. “Kinda surprised you _have_ secrets,” she teased lightly. 

He smiled. “Oh, yeah. Way worse stuff than me being the Boogeyman,” he told her. 

“Well…I’m all ears,” she invited.


	15. Scars

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing/sensitive topics)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Opening up…letting her scars be seen…it was an incredible experience, Lisa thought. It’d been difficult, and she’d been internally wincing the entire time, and yet…there was relief now. It felt good to just _say_ it all, let out the painful parts. 

She wasn’t so hot on the idea that she’d, essentially, burdened her sweet Mikey with her secrets, but he seemed appreciative. He hadn’t liked what she’d had to say, that much was obvious, but he’d clearly been touched as well. And then to have him offer her the same, to reveal some of _his_ secrets? 

Things had gotten serious between them, more so than she’d anticipated. Telling him about her bullying and scars – or one of the two, anyway – had been, in a way, a selfish move on her part. _She_ wanted to let everything out so _she_ could move on from her past. Knowing Mikey would take well to this talk had been a bonus. 

But she hadn’t expected him to return the favor. It stressed just how intense things were growing between them…and, to be honest, that was a little scary. Going from never having had a successful (or even lengthy) relationship to having one like _this_ was nerve-wracking. Like, was she crazy or were things moving hella fast? 

Still, she appreciated the return gesture from her beau. She even edged closer and pulled his arm around her again, loving how secure she felt like this – it was like being shielded against anything and everything that could possibly come for her. 

Never one to waste time, Mikey started quietly, “There’s a lot I’ve been hiding from my family. Raph, Donnie, Leo, Dad…they don’t know this stuff, so you can’t tell ‘em, okay?” 

Wow. He was going to tell her things he hadn’t told his own family? Glancing up at him, equally shocked and touched, she nodded. “Okay,” she agreed, “I understand.” 

The way he looked at her then…so hesitant…it was practically a mirror of how _she’d_ felt a few minutes ago. Maybe his secrets _were_ as big as hers, then…

Glancing away, he told her quietly, “I can get depressed pretty easy….sometimes they notice, sometimes they don’t. I usually keep it to myself. There’s times I just can’t help thinkin’ about, y’know…how bad things are. How lonely it is down here.” 

_Lonely?_ she thought, envisioning the Lair. Five guys and a girl in one great big open space, with just a few chambers here and there? How did anyone have enough room to be lonely? 

But, then, this place _was_ isolated. It wasn’t like they could order a pizza or go topside to a club or anything. And, thinking about that, Lisa started to realize just how little she really knew about her boyfriend and his life. They’d never really discussed it. Every time the subject came up, he seemed to divert it back to _her_ , and she was so scatterbrained she just went with the subject change. 

She was going to have to be more aware of that from now on. 

Mikey hesitated a second before continuing on, “It’s gotten…pretty bad before. When I think about stuff like…like how we’ll never be accepted…y’know, up there?” He glanced at her, then away again, but that one moment of eye contact told her a great deal. 

He was hurting. _Now_. Right this second. Swayed by a surge of compassion, Lisa sat upright and maneuvered around to bring him into an embrace. Affectionate guy that he was, he followed easily, coming to rest his cheek on her shoulder as her fingers pet and stroked at the back of his neck. 

He’d never had this before, had he? No mother, no sister, no former girlfriend – a boy like Mikey _needed_ to be held sometimes, she thought, and until now…until _her_ …she’d bet no one ever had. 

For a long moment neither of them spoke. Other than her petting, and his own at her back, nothing happened. Even with the stereo blaring out into the main chamber, covering all sound on their part, it was strangely silent. And they were so close she still heard it when her actions pulled a series of churrs from him. 

That sound was still weird to her, but she was warming up to it. Just now it made her smile, reminded that it meant comfort and happiness. She hoped it also meant his pain was fading. 

Then, very bluntly, Mikey commented low, “I almost committed suicide once.” 

At once, she froze, eyes going wide. A part of her wanted to yank him up and hold his face and yell at him for being so foolish – the rest of her was scared of what she’d see in his eyes right then. So she did nothing, just ventured, hesitant, “…Mikey?” 

“What’s the point?” he mused. “If no one knows we’re here, what we do…if no one cares…then what’s the point? Why should we bother?” 

_God,_ this was hard to listen to. She held Mikey tighter, all but crushing him insofar as she could. And he burrowed into her, face nuzzling against her shoulder and neck, telling her in no small measure how much he’d needed this. 

She couldn’t help asking, “What stopped you?” 

“My bros,” he answered quietly. “I had it all planned out, what I was gonna say, how I was gonna do it…” Wincing, he went on, “I was gonna tell ‘em goodbye, and, I dunno…maybe they kinda noticed? I thought I hid it well, but all of a sudden they were all… ‘Hey Mikey, how ya been? Come here, we’re havin’ a night. We got snacks. Thought we’d play some Smash Bros, and you’re the best, so c’mon! You can teach Leo how to block, he still hasn’t got it.’ It just went on and on, and…suddenly everything wasn’t so bad anymore.” 

That was good; in the midst of the horror she felt over this confession of his, his retelling managed to give her a smile. “You love ‘em, huh? More than anything,” she clarified. 

He didn’t answer right away, but the way he shifted – rubbing his cheek on her shoulder – told her he was happy. 

Then he commented low, “Just about, yeah…” 

A weird thrill went through her at that qualifier. Her mind actively resisted thinking on it, though, quickly supplying her with a new topic: “So, why did you…wanna do it?” she asked, voice somber. It was a sensitive subject, after all, and the last thing she wanted was to distress her boyfriend. 

But just as she’d needed to talk through her issues, he needed to talk through _his_. 

Mikey pulled back from her then, sitting upright again, and to be honest she missed the feel of him. And she noticed he gave a subtle swipe of his eyes – a motion that both gave her a little ache and a little smile. This wasn’t easy for him, clearly, but she felt it was good that they were opening up a bit. 

He took a deep, steadying breath, then went on – looking pointedly at their knees, “Just…got tiring, I guess. Got lonely. I’m usually the guy making all the jokes, but around then nothing was funny anymore. I didn’t wanna do anything, I just kinda…went through the motions. Did what I had to, to keep everyone from freaking.” 

When he went quiet, she ventured softly, “I know how that feels…doing what you used to, just to keep everyone from thinking there’s something wrong.” Her teenage years had been laced with pain, after all, and at first she’d done everything she could to hide that fact from her family. Sam, her mother, her grandparents… Lisa had lied to them through action and, at times, with words. 

For a moment Mikey gave her this searching kind of look, reading her in a way no one else ever had before. Her family knew her very well, yeah, but they weren’t crazy empathic or anything. 

Mikey was, she was learning. And it was just a little scary. 

Then, almost at a whisper, he confessed, “My plan was…I was gonna drink some kinda acid Donnie had in his lab. I knew it was gonna hurt and it wasn’t gonna be pretty, but it was the only way I knew…ya know, it’d work. I’m too tough for anything else.” 

Oh, god. At once she felt her eyes filling, throat crowding and a chill settling in her bones. This was about the most horrifying thing she’d ever heard, and the fact that it was _Mikey’s_ suicide plan from who-knew-when…her heart ached. She’d thought her secrets were big, but Jesus, he had her beat, there. 

Snuffling against tears, she reached out to cradle his head, coming to kiss him. At first he was so locked in his memory he didn’t move; then, after her third peck against his lips, he leaned down to meet her, a hand coming to cup her cheek. For the moment she let him have whatever he wanted, so when he brought his tongue in to flick against hers, she matched him – even though _she_ didn’t particularly want to kiss so deep right then. 

To her surprise, though, he just dragged his tongue across hers the once, ending the kiss with a lingering lip-lock which spanned more than a few moments. _That_ she enjoyed, lightly circling his skin with her fingertips to show her approval. Whether he’d caught on to her reluctance or just wanted to kiss her like this, she didn’t know; either way, she appreciated it. 

Drawing back with a wince, Mikey said, “Sorry…I didn’t mean to bring us down like this.” 

That drew a smile from her. “No worries. I started this downhill slide,” she returned. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.” 

He gave a slow nod, thinking, before replying, “Yeah, but I didn’t hafta add to it.” 

“I’m kinda glad you did,” she told him. “It can’t be easy, carrying around a cloud like that. It’s good you got it out.” He smiled at her then, and it made her heart flutter a little. Going for levity, she quipped lightly, “You know, like that guy from The Green Mile.” 

Chuckling, he commented, “John Coffey. Man, that movie hit like a ton of bricks, didn’t it?” 

“Ohh, yeah,” she agreed. “Made me cry.” 

Then, glancing left and right, Mikey leaned in close to whisper over the music still playing, “Me, too.” 

That had her giggling. “You know, not a lotta guys would admit to that,” she informed him. 

He shrugged, replying, “I’m not one of those ‘toxic masculinity’ types. Ya know, like Raph is.” 

She snorted. “Then what’s _your_ ‘type’?” she asked with a jerk of her chin at him, just knowing this would go somewhere fun. 

“Cuddly, clingy, and cool,” he declared, puffing out his chest with pride. 

Chuckling, she added, “And modest.” 

“Well, of course,” he agreed with a wide gesture. “When you’re perfect, you never admit to it. Gotta downplay it so no one else feels bad in your presence. Besides…” Leaning in again, he finished in a conspiratorial whisper, “If you pretend you don’t know you’re awesome, everyone tells you so. It’s a great way to fish for compliments.” 

“Excellent point,” she nodded, grinning. “In which case, I’m not perfect, either,” she said, fluffing her hair. 

Mikey gave her a lopsided smile then, tilting his head at her. Totally serious, he said, “You _are_ perfect, though.” 

Oh, god. She hadn’t actually intended to make him say that. Blushing – his tone getting to her – she looked away, covering her mouth with her hand. “N-no I’m not,” she denied, trying to ignore the butterflies in her belly. 

“Yeah, you are,” he disagreed. 

“Uh-uh.” 

“Yeah-huh.” 

“Mikey, no,” she pressed, blushing harder the more he kept this up. 

“Lisa, totally yes,” he shot back. She gave him a pained look, the certainty in his words starting to rattle her to the core. Reaching out, he started stroking her cheek, then said, “You’re the most perfectly perfect perfection to ever perfect.” 

That didn’t even make sense, yet it still made her cringe, equally flattered and guilty. No, she wasn’t perfect, and the fact that Mikey was trying so hard to get her to believe it only made her feel worse about the secrets she’d yet to reveal. When she went to tell him, though, they spoke over each other. 

Again. 

“There’s something I wa–”

“I gotta tell y–” 

Humor crashed into her all at once, and she had to lean forward and laugh for a moment. Her boyfriend was the same, shaking his head with a huge grin on his face. They really needed to stop doing that, but honestly…Lisa thought she’d miss it if they did. It was awkward…but fun. 

As if reading her mind, Mikey commented, “Y’know, that’s one of my favorite things that we do.” 

“Yeah? Me, too,” she agreed. Then, glancing down and sobering up a bit, she went on more tentatively, “But, um…there’s something I haven’t told you yet. And, uh…well, I just…I don’t want you to be surprised, right?” When she looked up again, reading him, she found her reptilian boyfriend watching her with interest. 

He didn’t seem afraid or suspicious or any such thing, just curious. It was like he legitimately couldn’t think ill of her. 

She kind of liked that, even as it made her feel a little ashamed. If he knew some of the thoughts she’d had, the things that had crossed her mind… 

Shaking off that train of thought, she considered her next move. She didn’t know what to say to lessen the coming blow, so she figured just bluntly showing him would be the best move. It was hard to muster up the courage, though, her eyes falling to the hoodie still draped over her left arm. 

She’d been very careful to keep it in place this whole time. And, now that she’d started walking this street, she forced herself to reach its destination: she tossed the hoodie aside. Then – after running her thumb over the scars near her elbow – she twisted her arm over and let him see. 

It took him a moment, looking down at the limb she’d offered him with confusion. She was already wincing, fear of what he was going to do next making her heart speed up, before he even spotted what she was showing him. Then he caught her arm with both hands, trailing his fingers over the handful of scars marring her skin. For a moment he leaned in, taking a closer look. 

Slowly but steadily, his expression pinched with pain. Gaze snapping to her, he murmured, “You…” 

“…cut,” she breathed. 

He suddenly yanked her into his arms, drawing a yelp out of her with the unexpected move. Before she knew what was going on, she was in his lap, his hands petting all along her back and neck and hair, forehead pressed against hers. A sweet kind of ache pierced her, a mixture of sorrow and joy – sorrow for having caused him pain, and joy over his affectionate reaction. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “it was a long time ago, I just…” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted with a little shake of his head. 

But it did, didn’t it? The ‘why’ mattered. So she forged on, “I needed an escape–” 

He kissed her, cutting her off. Then he repeated, “Doesn’t matter.” 

God, she was gonna cry if he kept that up. Snuffling against a tide of emotion, she bit out, “But I–” 

_“Lisa,”_ he hissed sharply, cupping her cheek and holding her gaze. “It doesn’t matter why you did it. What matters is you stopped.” 

God, this was too much…

A whine started at the back of her throat, and she quickly smooshed her face against his neck, hiding as well as she could. As a tiny quiver went through her, a result of her riotous emotions, he just hugged her tight. 

In the background of this sweet moment, an old favorite song of hers played, as if summing up how she felt right then. 

[](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2FSF8OVaA6YNM&t=MTA4NDkyNjIwYTljZWY1YTZmNDAyNjk5ZmEyMzc1YTZmMmJkNTU5YixoYklhMXFnUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F174703365514%2Fthe-dj-part-15&m=0)_Take me away (take me away)_  
A secret place (a secret place)  
A sweet escape (a sweet escape)  
Take me away (take me away)

[](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2FSF8OVaA6YNM&t=MTA4NDkyNjIwYTljZWY1YTZmNDAyNjk5ZmEyMzc1YTZmMmJkNTU5YixoYklhMXFnUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F174703365514%2Fthe-dj-part-15&m=0) _The sun is on my side_  
Take me for a ride   
I smile up to the sky   
I know I’ll be alright 

She started to smile then, letting the music wash over her. It was just as solid as her boyfriend’s arms around her, the two together doing wonders in soothing her. It was just the tail end of the song, but mixed with the feelings Mikey invoked in her, it was powerful. 

In no time her heart was calm and her nerves had relaxed. Another minute like this, she thought, and she was just going to fall asleep. _That_ was how comfortable she felt – which was pretty shocking, all things considered. Over the course of the last ten minutes, a lot had happened. 

She’d revealed the truth of her past, shown her binder, and basically told him she had huge knockers. That, alone, should have left her too tense to so much as rest her eyes. Pattern recognition said nothing good ever came of boys learning when a girl was ‘gifted’. 

But she got none of that from Mikey. She just…couldn’t be afraid of him. He practically radiated harmlessness, his arms feeling nothing but warm and safe around her. 

“Lisa?” 

…And his voice was so sweet to hear, she thought with a smile. Right then, so low and quiet, it even sounded just a tad bit seductive, making her want to pull in even tighter. 

“Mm?” was her response, the most she could manage as she basked in this moment. 

There was a beat of silence, and then he said, “I love you.” 

At first she couldn’t even process that statement. It’d come out of nowhere, so unexpected that she doubted her own ears. Seconds ticked by as she struggled with herself, mind teetering between disbelief, denial, and shock. Thoughts layered on top of each other, a cacophony of noise inside her head. 

_He didn’t just – but he did – oh Jesus – I’m not – this isn’t – he just said – no, no I misheard – but I don’t –  
_

Then, finally coming to accept what she’d heard a full fifteen seconds later, she jolted upright and started speaking her thoughts aloud in a frantic rambling. 

“W-what the hell, I can’t just – I mean, like – you can’t just spring that on me and whatever! I’m not – I wasn’t prepared for – what the hell, Mikey!” 

Her face was on fire, her previously calm heart now right back at marathon speed. She caught herself bouncing in place and shaking her hands, totally overwhelmed by what she’d just heard. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she supposed to respond?! _What the hell was he thinking?!??_

Not the least bit flustered, her boyfriend just smiled at her, clearly pleased with himself. “It’s true, though,” he told her. 

Oh, god, that just made it worse! She blurted, “Okay?! A-and what am I supposed to do now? I don’t even watch romantic movies! I got nothin’, here!” She ended her rant with a little nervous shriek, pitching back on the bed – it sloshed under her – and turning over to grab a pillow and stuff her face into it so she could scream from the nerves knotting in her stomach without alerting the entire block. 

Unfazed, Mikey followed her down, wrapping his arms around her waist and snuggling against her neck. She curled up into a ball, gripping the pillow all the tighter, and started muttering against the fabric. She’d never been more giddy and excited than she was right now, and she lacked the ability to handle it. 

How _dare_ he just unleash that on her! 

After several moments she had to free herself from the pillow’s confines to breathe, and she took the moment to glance over her shoulder. Her boyfriend was smiling still, blue eyes bright and pleased as punch. 

Groaning, she tore her gaze away to complain, “Can’t believe you did that to me…” 

“Did what?” he pressed. 

She knew better than to look back _now_. She just knew he’d be giving her a little, naughty smirk. To the headboard, she murmured, “I dunno what to say…”

“That’s fine.” 

“Is it?” she wondered quietly. In this situation, wasn’t the other person supposed to say ‘I love you’ back? But…she wasn’t sure she loved him. Hell, she’d actively been avoiding thinking about that. Aside from the fact that they’d barely been together for two weeks so far, she’d never been so invested before. She didn’t want to mess this up, so a part of her was resisting thinking about this relationship too deeply. 

Like, what happens if she admitted she was in love – which she wasn’t sure she was yet! – only for everything to fall apart? She’d be left irrevocably broken, she just knew it. There’d be no recovering from having her heart broken like that. 

No, it was just safer to keep things light and cute and silly, nothing serious or heavy getting between them. 

Looking back at him again – yep, he’s still giving her that happy smile; she almost cringed from cuteness overload – she ventured, “Funny, Mikey?” 

His eyes hardened a fraction. 

“…Not funny?” she corrected. 

“I wouldn’t joke about this,” he told her, starting to run his fingers through her hair. Then, hesitating, he asked, “Was it too soon?” 

Yes, yes it was. But she didn’t want to just _say_ that; she didn’t want to bring down his high. He was clearly happy. 

She wanted him to be happy. 

When she didn’t respond – in fact, she _couldn’t_ respond, none of her thoughts coherent or gentle enough for this moment – he checked, “What can I do?” 

To make it better? She wasn’t sure, but her mouth replied, “Make me laugh. Distract me.” 

Evidently her mouth was smarter than her head and had that answer prepared. 

His immediate response? “What do you call a mouse that walks on two legs?” 

Riddles? Unequipped to puzzle this out, she said, “Uh, I dunno?” 

“Mickey Mouse.” 

Oh. She snorted. 

Then he went on, “What do you call a duck that walks on two legs?” 

“Donald Duck?” she answered quickly, envisioning the anthropomorphic cartoon characters. 

Mikey retorted, “ _All_ ducks.” 

Oh, geez. She laughed, amused despite herself. 

For a moment her boyfriend laughed with her; then he said, “Been waiting to use that one forever.” 

“Kept it in your inner pocket?” she checked. 

“Yep. My bros are too clever,” he admitted, “it wouldn’t work on them. Well, maybe Raph, but he’s heard it before,” he explained. 

“Ah, so you needed a new victim,” she concluded. 

“Yep.” 

More relaxed already, she replied, “Why was six afraid of seven?” 

“Because seven eight nine,” he answered, smug. 

“Because seven was a registered six offender,” she quipped. 

Now _Mikey_ laughed, caught off guard by the differing punchline. Thus started a little back-and-forth with bad jokes and puns, venturing between the groan-worthy and the giggly. 

“I don’t trust stairs. They’re always up to something.” 

“How many apples grow on a tree? All of them.” 

“How do you make a tissue dance? Put a little boogie in it.” 

“I started dating an elevator last week. It’s a very up-and-down relationship.” 

“I was going to make a gay joke, butt fuck it.” 

“What’s green and red and goes a hundred miles an hour? A frog in a blender.”

“To the guy in the wheelchair who stole my camouflage jacket…you can hide but you can’t run.”  

“What’s Batman’s favorite fruit? BA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA BA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA grapefruit!” 

By the end Lisa was wiping tears off her face from how hard she was laughing, the slew of bad puns tickling her to the point of stomach cramps. Her puns had gotten Mikey nearly as bad, the room filled with chuckles and snorts and squeaked words as their own humor botched their punchlines. They were both laying back now, gazing up at the ceiling – oh cool, his ceiling light had a whisk around it, she hadn’t noticed before – as they caught their breath. 

“I give, I give,” she laughed. 

“Give what? Give hugs?” he pressed. “I’ll take hugs.” He didn’t wait for her response, just rolled over to wrap her in his arms again. 

Her dying chuckles kicked back up again, feeling much better now. The only downside was that she’d started sweating, the closed-off room slowly heating up. When she sat up, pulling out of her boyfriend’s grasp, a rush of cool air hit the back of her neck, seeping into her damp hair. 

He followed her up, picking up on when she took a breather. “You hot?” he asked. Then, jokingly, he added, “I mean of course you’re hot, wink wink–”

She snorted. “You’re not supposed to _say_ ‘wink wink’,” she told him, even as she blushed from the compliment. She was ‘hot’? Yeah, right – but she was still flattered he thought so. 

Wincing, he confessed, “I can’t wink.”

Surprised and a little chagrined, she sent him a shocked look. “Really?” 

“Really,” he agreed with an exaggerated wink. 

Snorting again, she got up, giving a quick stretch. 

“Seriously though,” he started, concerned, “you’re sweating. It’s gotta be bad.” 

She shrugged. “It’s fine,” she told him. 

“No, it’s not,” he shot back, getting up. “Aren’t you uncomfortable? With the binder and everything?” 

Averting her gaze, she muttered, “Well, yeah, but…it’s more uncomfortable without it.” 

Mikey went quiet then, but she could feel his gaze still on her. After a long pause, he said, “Wait here,” and promptly strode from the room, brushing the curtain aside as he went. 

What followed was some kind of lengthy argument from elsewhere in the Lair, barely audible over the stereo. She wanted to turn it off so she could hear what was going on, but it wasn’t hers and she felt she shouldn’t touch it. Eventually, however, Mikey came back – with a floor fan and an extension cord. 

As he set it up, plugging it in somewhere outside the room and seating it to aim right at the huge beanbag, she felt her heart swell all over again. He was so…damn…thoughtful! By the time he finished his task and turned back to face her with a pose and a “tada!”, she had a hand over her heart and her eyes stung. 

Words fell from her lips, thoughtless yet thoughtful: “Where did you come from?” 

That had him grinning. “Well, first, an egg…” 

Wincing, she retorted, “Oh, you’re such a ham.” 

“A ham? ‘A’? Like, one?” He scoffed, as if offended. “I’m, like, seventy hams.” 

Chuckling against her will, she said, “Funny, Mikey.” 

The look he gave her then was one of absolute adoration. It was enough to make her glance elsewhere, a whole new blush creeping up. The fan could only help her overheating so much, the blush making its task even more difficult. 

Diverting the situation, Mikey strode closer and gestured the beanbag. “C’mon. I picked a bunch of games I thought you’d like. Do you prefer Gamecube, Sega, or PSX?” 

At that, she glanced at the TV set and the cabinet it sat upon. Sure enough, inside the missing doors were the three entertainment systems and a slew of games. 

Good god. She’d really lucked out with him, hadn’t she? Giving him a look of surprise and appreciation, she replied, “House pick.” 

She had a very strong feeling that today was going to be one of the greatest of her life.


	16. The Best Goodnight

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

_“Pawnch!”_

The victory crow came from none other than Mikey as his character, Captain Falcon, launched Lisa’s – Yoshi – right off the screen, taking her final life in Super Smash Bros: Melee. It was accompanied by riotous laughter from her, cheeks pink from how entertained she was. 

At first, when he loaded up the game on his Gamecube, Mikey had been careful, holding back his true potential. This quickly proved to be a mistake, as she was a damn good gamer. She won their first two matches just because he’d been careful about how much skill he could use, absolutely wiping the floor with him; now they were _fighting_. 

Her and her brother had apparently played a lot of versus matches before. She grew up battling Sam in games like Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat, and they’d spent a lot of time and money at arcades together. According to her, he’d been great about teaching her as they went, pausing if she didn’t know how to do a move and letting her practice it. 

The result? She viewed versus games as less of a competition and more of a fun display, enjoying her losses as much as her victories. 

Relieved to hear it, Mikey opted then to stop holding back, and it was the best decision he could’ve made. At first Lisa was surprised when he suddenly went from less-than-average to The Friggin’ Master, but it just made her rally all the more. _Now_ they were competing, and while he’d admit he was still goofing off more than actively playing, he was having the best time of his life. 

And from her incessant laughter, so was Lisa. He couldn’t have been happier. 

At first he’d intended to give her the coveted Player One spot on the beanbag, but he’d have blocked the fan, so alas, she was relegated to the Player Two spot – this time. But he still gave her the Player One controller, which she gleefully accepted, informing him that while Sam was a great brother, he’d _never_ let her be Player One before. It’d been one of the few points of contention between them. 

When the match ended, Captain Falcon being declared the winner, Lisa flopped back with a series of fading giggles. And could he just say she was adorable as hell and he really loved seeing her like that, in his room, on his beanbag, right beside him? 

He couldn’t resist leaning over to smooch the tip of her nose. 

That got her laughs to kick back up. 

The day passed in a haze of joy, constantly going from one enjoyable activity to the next with at least _mild_ giggles punctuating every minute mark. First Smash Bros, then Mario Kart, Bomberman, Star Fox, Kirby and Time Splitters. 

So many hours had passed, the pair of them spending the whole day in Mikey’s room, playing his Gamecube. Then Leo had to go and ruin it by calling that it was time for dinner, making Mikey get up to help with the food preparation. He apologized to Lisa, but it turned out she wasn’t displeased with the turn of events. 

She was hungry, too. 

That made him wince a little, realizing too late that the thought of making sure his girlfriend was fed hadn’t once crossed his mind. How could he have forgotten? Food was kind of imperative! He was failing as a boyfriend already and they’d barely been together for two weeks! He made a mental note not to forget in the future, to make sure his girl was properly fed at all times. 

Then he joined Jocelyn in the kitchen and the pair of them got to work. Lisa joined the rest of the family in waiting nearby (after putting her hoodie back on, hiding her binder), though she was uncomfortable enough around the brothers that she stayed off to the side, seated on the steps that separated the kitchen from the dining area. 

Raph, jerk that he was, immediately started teasing her. “What’sa matter, don’t wanna come sit with the big kids?” he said with a gesture at the open chair beside him. 

“Oh, shush, you,” Jo tossed over her shoulder, immediately putting her foot down. 

Mikey appreciated her interference; aside from Splinter, Jo was the only one who could get Raph to behave. 

For once, though, the bigger boy didn’t back down. “Hey, I’m just bein’ friendly,” he defended with a smirk that clearly read ‘I‘m a fuckin’ liar’. 

Donnie just rolled his eyes at the display; Leo, on the other hand, chided, “Quit posturing for once.” 

That got Raph’s attention on his elder brother, starting an argument. As comments flew back and forth, the two bickering, Mikey was content to let them go about it – right up until Raph started swearing up a storm. 

Lisa didn’t like swearing, he’d noticed, especially all the f-bombs that tended to come from Raph’s mouth. Mikey snapped, “Dude, d’you have to swear so much? Jeez…” 

When he checked on Lisa, he found her looking even more uncomfortable than before, but smiling at him in thanks all the same. 

Baffled, Raph blurted, “When’d you become such a pussy?” 

“Dude!” Mikey shot back. 

“New rule,” Jo interrupted, “no swearing at the dinner table.” Her calm but firm tone said everything: there’d be hell to pay if she were disobeyed. 

Leaning back in his chair, Raph spread his arms, distraught. “What? Babe…” he complained. 

Giving him a look, she replied, “It spoils the meal. Just be a big boy and hold your tongue.” 

His eyes said he had a naughty reply to that, but to his credit he didn’t say it aloud. Mikey was glad for that; Lisa was a very pure-minded type of girl and he didn’t want her getting overwhelmed by the overly sexual relationship between Raph and Jo. 

Splinter chose then to show himself, dropping down from the pipes above their heads. Lisa jolted in surprise; everyone else was more than used to such entrances by him and merely offered respectful greetings. And, Mikey noted, their father was looking amused as hell. 

The rest of dinner’s preparation passed uneventfully – Lisa even started to engage in conversation after some gentle prodding from Jo and Mikey. The solidarity did wonders for the blue-eyed girl. 

Then Mikey made a mistake: he immediately filled a plate with the best parts of everything and offered it to Lisa. He couldn’t help it; a part of him demanded he care and provide for her, and damn if he didn’t want to. But when he helped her to her feet and then showed the feast, excited and waiting expectantly, she winced, regarding the dish with a grimace. 

His good mood crashed in an instant, glancing down at the plate and back up, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. Was the chicken undercooked? Were the mixed vegetables overcooked? Did she hate gravy? _What was it??_

“What’d I do wrong?” he demanded, lowering the plate. 

“N-nothing,” she assured him, shaking her head. “I just, uh…I wish you’d asked before filling a plate for me.” 

There was more to this, he could tell. So he relocated the plate to the table, taking it out of her personal space, then asked, “What is it?” When she hesitated, he pressed, “C’mon buttercup, I can’t make it better if I don’t know what it is.” 

She chuckled weakly. Then, wringing her hands, she explained, “I don’t like just saying this cause I get a lot of crap for it, but…I’m a vegetarian.” 

Oh. That was all? But, wait, if she was a vegetarian, then… 

Wincing, it hit him how insensitive it was to shove cooked chicken right under her nose. “Sorry,” he said, biting his lip on a wave of guilt. 

“It’s okay,” she told him, reaching up to stroke his neck. It made him feel a lot better, honestly. 

Then, having been listening in, Jo commented, “You never told me you were vegetarian. How come?” 

Shrugging, Lisa replied, “People get defensive about it. And sometimes they start bullying. I’ve had raw meat thrown at me before. You learn after a while…” 

A beat of silence passed, everyone taking in her words and glancing at the prepared meal. Then Leo asked, “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” 

Notably avoiding eye contact, she answered, “Cause it’s _my_ lifestyle choice. I don’t like cutting into others’. It feels rude, y’know? Wasn’t gonna ask for something else just cause there’s one thing on the menu I won’t eat.” 

Another moment of silence, then Raph said, “Trade your chicken for my veggies.” 

That made her giggle, defusing the situation and lightening the mood again. As the vegetables were carefully scraped off both plates onto a new one for Lisa, Mikey found himself thinking that Raph was always _such_ a jerk – right up until a truly important thing happened. A few weeks ago, he backed Lisa’s choice to work instead of pursue college; now he took her vegetarian lifestyle and worked with it. 

There were times Mikey couldn’t quite decide if he was annoyed by his brother…or loved him the most of his family members. Judging from the pleased smile Jo was giving Raph, she’d already landed on the latter conclusion, herself. 

Leo agreed, commenting, “Y’know, Raph…sometimes you’re actually pretty decent.” 

A loud, dismissive snort was his reply. 

* * *

All things considered, Lisa had no regrets. Opening up had been hard, and Mikey doing the same had been even harder just to hear, but she wouldn’t have done anything differently. More than one barrier had been knocked down, leaving her to unabashedly say she was loving every second with her boyfriend. Even the little events during dinner had seemed to work in their favor while simultaneously getting her to relax around his oddball family. 

Raphael still irritated the hell out of her, but he was steadily losing his imposing nature. She was starting to see what Jocelyn saw in him, the caring heart he kept hidden at all times. And with his status as “the scary one” falling away, the others’ followed: Donnie was slowly turning into this skinny but cute dork and she was even starting to see the playful side of Leo, too. 

They were rude as hell to one another, those brothers – right up until Splinter got involved, at which point they shaped up in record time – but it was becoming clear that it was just their way of keeping things light. They never spoke to anyone else the way they spoke to one another, and they even listened when _Jo_ chided them. 

That was understandable, though – Jo was a force to be reckoned with, after all. 

After a loud, rowdy dinner, Mikey invited her with the rest to hang out and watch a movie in “the living room”. And, honestly, she totally wanted to – but it was getting late and she had work in the morning. When she brought it up, Mikey _whined_. 

“You need to get, like, two days off together,” he told her. 

Not a bad idea. “Know what, I really should,” she agreed. That’d give her time to be reckless and young for two nights straight and not have to worry about work the following morning. Decided, she opted to talk to Gil about her schedule at work tomorrow and headed out. 

Mikey took her home, unsurprisingly. The route was about half waterslides and half tunnels, so she got to spend a little while getting steadily soaked and the rest of the time rollerblading. It was cold as hell by the end, leaving her shivering, but she didn’t mind so much. She preferred the cold to the heat, anyway, and her layers left her a little uncomfortably warm all the time regardless. In the end, it was kind of refreshing. 

As per their usual habit, they hung around under her exit for a while, chatting and unwilling to part. It was all light and fluffy – right up until he asked about her being a vegetarian. 

“So what’s that about?” he asked. 

Confused, she replied, “Uh, whadaya mean?” 

“Like, why’d you choose it? There’s like a thousand possible reasons,” he pointed out. “Born into it, want to stop the meat industry, health issues, et cetera…” 

Wincing a little, she confessed, “Uh, well…I just…can’t bring myself to eat meat, knowing what the animals go through…” 

That gave him pause. “So it’s a compassion thing?” 

She nodded. “Like, as a kid, I had a really hard time eating meat after I learned it was all animals, like cows and chickens and pigs and whatever. Then I learned how they’re farmed, and…I dunno, I can’t do it. Knowing they’re bred, kept, and slaughtered just for food when we don’t _need_ it…and that’s it, that’s their whole lives, living in pens just waiting to get fat enough to get killed…it’s horrible.” 

Then, grimacing, she asked, “Can you imagine living like that? Like, sure, they’re animals…they don’t have the, uh…the awareness to know what they’re going through…but still.” 

For a moment Mikey remained silent, processing her words. Then he confessed, “Y’know, we talked about this before, me an’ my bros. It felt kinda personal…we’re turtles; people eat turtles, y’know?” 

That made her wince again. She hadn’t even thought of that. “Yeah?” she ventured. “What’d you decide?” 

“Whatever,” he shrugged. “Meat’s part of our diet, same as humans. We don’t really see anything wrong with it.” 

Understandable. Most people thought the same way, and Lisa couldn’t hold it against them – _she_ was the abnormal one, after all, concerned about the livelihoods of billions of animals as a whole. But she couldn’t let go of the horror and disgust she felt for what she knew of the farming industry, so she was stuck in place. 

Then Mikey asked, “What about fish?” 

She made a face. “I don’t like fish,” she answered. “It’s so… _bleh_. For a while I was willing to eat fish still, but they’re just…ugh, yknow?” 

He chuckled, obviously finding her reaction cute. Thankfully the subject drifted away from her eating habits then, and they stood around for a while longer, chatting about whatever subject came up. As they did so, they slowly edged closer, an unconscious inch at a time, until Mikey had an arm around Lisa’s waist, holding her against him. 

She didn’t mind; she liked being this close to him. She still felt a little awkward, however – especially so when she recalled their confessions this afternoon – so she distracted herself by playing with his necklace again. The feel of the links passing under her fingertips was helpful in giving her a second point of focus. 

After a few moments of this, he commented, “You really like my chain, don’t you?” 

She nodded. “It’s a nice accent. Suits you,” she told him. 

He grinned. Then, sobering, he asked, “You want it?”

Her eyes bugged out. “What, seriously?” she demanded. 

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone saying _well, duh_. “If you like it so much…” 

“Uh-uh,” she denied sharply. “I’m not taking your necklace, Mikey.” 

“You wouldn’t be taking it,” he countered, “I’d be giving it.” 

“Still ‘no’,” she shot back. “Besides, it wouldn’t look good on me. Admit it.” 

That got a chuckle out of him. “Alright, alright, as the lady says,” he teased. 

Scoffing, she started to back off, embarrassment flaring up; he didn’t let her go, bringing both arms around her to keep her in place. That wordless refusal actually helped her chill out a bit, lifting her hands to trail along his neck. 

For a moment they held gazes, both admiring the other. The attention soon had Lisa’s shy side acting up, though, making her change the subject to the next thing she noticed: his neck. 

As her fingers moved their way behind his head, idly brushing the ends of his bandana back and forth, she suddenly noticed just how thick and hard the muscles were at the back of his neck. She couldn’t help a curious, firm stroke with her fingers, commenting at the feel, “Holy crud, these muscles are _hard_.” 

That made him giggle. “Yeah, wonder why,” he hinted. 

She had no clue. Apparently it showed on her face because he went on, “…Cause of my shell.” 

Still lost, she checked, “Uhh, what does your shell have to do with it?” 

The surprise on his face suggested that he thought this was obvious. “It’s heavy,” he told her. “Like, really heavy. Of course my muscles are strong, they have to be.” 

Oh. Well, now she just felt stupid. Ducking her head down to hide her face, she admitted, “Yeah, okay…that was stupid of me…” 

Pulling her face back up by the chin, he disagreed, “No, it wasn’t. You didn’t get it at first. Now you do. That’s not stupid,” he said firmly. 

A part of her couldn’t believe him. After a lifetime of being teased and demeaned for her low intellect, it was hard to believe that _anyone_ didn’t think she was dumb. 

When she remained hesitant, he suddenly started humming. Her mind went right to work on the tune, quickly determining the origin. She declared, “Smash Mouth, I’m A Believer.” 

Grinning, he chuckled, “That took you, like, four seconds.” 

She shrugged. “It was an easy one.” 

He seemed to take that as a challenge, starting to give her more difficult tunes and songs. And judging by how accurate he was this time, he’d been practicing this since last time; it was way easier for her to nail the songs when he so perfectly mimicked the tunes. 

They got distracted by the game after a while, losing track of time – right up until her phone rang. 

Sam. 

Oops… 

* * *

At first, when her phone rang, Mikey wanted to snatch it from her hand and turn it off. He was enjoying himself and didn’t want to stop now – and the wince Lisa gave told him she didn’t want to answer the call anyway. But she did, and he remained silent while she had a chat with her brother, assuring him that she was almost home (literally less than a minute’s walk from here) and would be there in a second. 

After she hung up, she gave Mikey this pained look, like she really didn’t want to go. She shouldn’t do that; he legit wanted to just take her back to the Lair and never let her go. He imagined her in his bed, fast asleep, while he cuddled her close, and it started an ache in his chest. 

“Aww, don’t gimme that face,” he teased, “you hafta go. You can’t dream about me if you’re still here and awake,” he hinted. 

That pulled a grin out of her. “True,” she allowed. 

“Besides,” he added with a nudge to her arm, “I like it when we chat on the phone until you pass out. It’s one of my favorite things. Gotta go home for that.” 

Shaking her head, she demanded, “How do you do that?” 

Baffled, he replied, “Uhh, I dunno? What’d I do?” 

“You make ‘goodbye’ feel like ‘hello’ in advance,” she answered, her tone so sweet it was a Cupid’s arrow right to the heart. 

He couldn’t reply to that with words; as a heady wave of emotion went through him, all he could do was lean in to kiss her. God, he loved her so much – it should probably scare him, in fact. He’d fallen so hard so fast, he knew at least _some_ part of him should feel worried about that. Metaphors about passion and flames and burning out _should_ have taken root by now. 

But he wasn’t worried at all. He was just…happy. (And a little blue-balled, sure, but he could deal with that later.) 

Lisa responded so sweetly to him, too, standing on her toes to get as close to him as she could. Truth be told, he’d always been a little sore about being the shortest of his brothers – right up until now. He was just a little taller than Lisa, and he loved that, too. He loved it when she popped up on her toes when they kissed, loved how close it brought them, loved how close her lips and neck were at any given time. 

How could he possibly care about his height compared to his brothers’ when it was so perfect compared to Lisa’s? 

By the time the kiss ended, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her up in his arms and take her back home. But he couldn’t do it, most especially without her permission, so he forced himself to instead clamber up the ladder to push the manhole out of the way. 

They said their goodbyes as she started the climb out, but a sudden thought had him catching her elbow before she could go up more than a couple rungs. Giving him a look of surprise, she halted, waiting. 

“I wanna say thanks,” he told her. When her expression turned baffled, he explained, “For opening up to me tonight. For showing your scars. And…for listening to mine.” 

Wincing a little, she replied, “Uh, I-I’m not so sure you’re supposed to thank people for that…” 

Ignoring that, he reached up between the rungs to cup her cheek, growing more serious than before. “And, Lisa?” He waited for her to meet his gaze before finishing, “I promise, those scars won’t ever hurt you again. Whatever it takes, I got it.” 

Her cheeks started to flush immediately; he could feel it against his palm as clearly as he could see it. Awkward, she hurriedly replied, “Thanks, baby boy.” 

That had him grinning. “You’re welcome…baby girl,” he returned. 

That got her smiling wide, though she bit her lip as if trying to stop it. And, after opening and closing her mouth like she wanted to reply but thought better of it, she finished her climb and disappeared aboveground. 

As per his usual routine, he climbed up after her to watch her, making sure she made it into her apartment building alright. Once the door was shut behind her, he righted the manhole cover and dropped down with a pleased whoop. 

Today had been the best day of his life, bar none. So much had happened, every last minute of it important and valuable. As he headed home, he thought on the day’s events, lingering over details he hadn’t had time to examine more closely before. 

The things he thought over, in particular, were Lisa’s reactions to his affections. He couldn’t help thinking hard on this every time they parted, always just a little worried that there were hesitations he hadn’t noticed before – and sometimes there were a few, here and there. 

He couldn’t think of any this time. Every time he had her in his arms, every time he’d kissed her, even when they were just sitting side by side…this time, there was nothing but easy acceptance, not a single shred of resistance. He’d expected to be able to pinpoint at least one moment – probably right after confessing that he loved her – but even then she was still relaxed. 

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but now all he could think was that, _hell, yeah,_ she was in love, too! She just wasn’t ready to say it – or realize it, he thought. Yet she had _totally_ fallen for him by now, he was sure of it. The way she’d looked at him all night…like he was the greatest thing ever…that was all the proof he needed. 

After all, he gave her those same looks. If she looked at him the same way, then it followed that she loved him back. 

He was so pumped, thinking of this, that when he got home, he immediately went into his room, shoved his face into the beanbag where she’d been sitting, and masturbated. He couldn’t help it; he was so god damn in love and she was so freaking hot and she smelled _so good_ … 

God, he couldn’t wait to cross that particular finish line with her. He was willing to bet that sex with her was going to be mind-blowing – plus he so, so badly wanted to pleasure her, it was almost sad. Making her moan and gasp and cry his name were a few of his favorite fantasies. 

But that got him thinking…he was a virgin. _She_ was a virgin. He had no idea how to deal with the differences in their species. Sure, he could look up porn anytime for tips and tricks – his search history was full of women being pleasured and pleasuring other women, so he knew plenty already – but how did he go about the things _he_ needed, especially when he didn’t even know about them yet? 

What if his instincts drove him to do something she didn’t like, something potentially harmful? What if his strength got out of hand and he injured her? And what about his mutagen? He hadn’t thought of it before now, but if Jo was getting mutagen from Raph, then Lisa would be getting mutagen from Mikey, too. He had so many questions…

Lucky for him, then, that one of the brothers already had experience in this field.


	17. Her Bravest Moment

**Rating:** R (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

When Lisa got home, she was _still_ freaking out a little. She couldn’t help it, though – three little words kept going around in her head, keeping her pulse quick and strong. 

_I love you._

_Shriek!_

Sam was waiting for her when she got into the apartment, looking so forcibly nonchalant she kind of wanted to walk on by, not saying a damn thing, just so he could keep pretending he wasn’t upset. But, wanting to keep things easy and friendly between them, she couldn’t. They’d never been at odds before and she didn’t want it happening now. 

Tugging off her hoodie, she ventured, “Wassup, Sam? You’re up late, still.” 

Did her voice sound a little shaky? Ugh, now was the _worst_ time to have this chat, with her heart still going nuts over the fact that her boyfriend had confessed to her tonight. 

Sam was faking watching TV, the Spike channel from the look of it. Some guy with a huge beard and bald head was in the middle of smithing something. He gave a weak shrug, replying without looking her way, “Nothing. Just, you know, waiting to make sure my sister got home okay.” 

Wincing, she contemplated how late it was, how she really should’ve been back an hour ago. A part of her wanted to apologize – but a sudden thought had her back straightening, refusing to just lie down and take her brother’s ire. 

She retorted smartly, “That’s sweet and all, but I recall telling you that you don’t hafta worry about me anymore. I’m a big–” 

“–big girl,” he interrupted-slash-finished for her, annoyed. Sending her a sharp glance, he snapped, “That’s great – but remember this is _New York._ You’ve already been mugged twice. What if next time it’s more than a mugging, huh?” 

Narrowing her gaze, she replied without thought, “Won’t happen. My boyfriend keeps an eye on me every time I come home.” 

That got Sam’s attention, absolutely riveting to her, and she realized in a rush that she’d just said too much. Like a deer caught in headlights, she froze, then made a swift beeline for her room with a rushed “good-night”. 

Same followed – unsurprisingly – calling, “Hold up, Lise – what do you mean, your boyfriend watches you?” 

“Nothing,” she shot back, evading when he stepped in front of her. “He just escorts me home and makes sure I get in the building okay. Now move, I have work in the morning,” she added sharply when he stepped in front of her a second time. 

He was blocking her doorway now, every inch the overprotective big brother. “So, wait, he’s out there every night the two of you were together?” 

_Shit._ He was getting a calculating look in his eye, and Lisa cringed, realizing too late that she’d just made things more difficult for her mutant boyfriend. It was just a good thing she hadn’t added that she was _pretty_ sure Mikey also kept an eye on her almost every night, following her home from work and gigs. Or, if not him, then one of his brothers – whoever was closest at the time, she thought. 

They’d played dumb the one time she’d asked, and expecting they were never going to clarify (and besides which, she was terrible at scenting lies), she’d never asked again. Maybe eventually she’d find out the truth, but she suspected it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. 

Hesitating, Lisa ventured, “Of course he is. He’s a good guy and he wants me to be safe. When we’re out together, he never leaves my side.” 

Sam was pondering that, and – impatient with him – she elbowed past him with an annoyed, “Now, good night, okay? You have work in the morning, too.” 

Her brother watched her with drawn brows, thinking, until she shut her door in his face. Then, sighing, she tossed her hoodie on her dresser and struggled out of her binder. It was a relief to get it off, resulting in a heavy _uhn_ from her as the pressure was finally lifted. 

Honestly, it’d made the night a lot more difficult for her – both because it was hard to get proper air when a laughing fit struck…and it’d made it so much harder to breathe during that post-confession freak out she’d had. 

Maybe next time….no, no, that was a stupid idea, she chided herself. But the beginnings of a thought had already taken root, and she couldn’t help wondering if she could – should – if she _would_ leave her binder behind the next time she hung out with Mikey. 

He’d stare. She already knew he’d stare; it was painfully obvious what a physical guy he was and how much he loved women. She could easily picture him _trying_ to keep his eyes off her chest but being incapable of stopping himself. 

And, well…maybe that’s what she needed: to have a guy notice, stare, and notably _like_ her breasts…without ever acting on it. An appreciation without forced touching. _Respect._

God, wouldn’t that be a dream come true? 

But, man, could she really do it? Not necessarily the very next time they hung out, but soon-ish? Trying to weigh the pros and cons in her mind, she admitted that the pros were many (the binder was uncomfortable and hot, it left her sweaty in itchy places and had caused rashes many times, and it cut off her breath so often) and the cons were…lesser. 

In fact, the cons were just the one: she was still _very_ insecure about her size. She was afraid of getting the wrong kind of attention – and by now she knew full well that Mikey would _never_ do that. So, really, what reason did she still have to keep wearing it? As she’d told Sam, this wasn’t junior high – truth be told, she’d barely had those horrible comments during her high school years anyway, once she’d swapped schools; all the students there were much more kind. 

She’d kept using the binder out of habit and fear, but ultimately when the rumors went around the school (again), hardly anyone had said or done anything about it. Other than the boys asking her out always turning out to be creeps, she’d never had to deal with negativity. 

She could’ve stopped wearing them _years_ ago and would probably have been no worse off for it. So…why keep them anymore, anyway? 

It might just be time to let them go…

Undecided, she left her binders in her dresser, tossing her used one in her hamper. Then, stretching, she opted to head to bed and deal with showering in the morning. 

As she climbed into bed, though, she couldn’t help thinking back on the night’s events. Her boyfriend carrying her through the waterslides, that adrenaline-packed flip he’d done, the tour of the Lair (holy _crap_ it was a huge place, and she loved every inch of it already), their mutual confessions, the fun they’d had playing games together, the sweet way he and his family accommodated her vegetarianism, the trip home, their ‘goodbye’ talk… 

Every so often the words “I love you” came to mind again, and she couldn’t help a squeak, hiding her face in her pillow even though he wasn’t here to witness her surge of emotion. 

He couldn’t be real, she decided then. _This_ couldn’t be real. Her boyfriend was a reptile and he was the nicest, sweetest, funnest boy who’d ever lived. It was kind of ironic, actually – if she was dreaming this, then _of course_ she’d have dreamt up a man who wasn’t even human as her ideal boyfriend. 

Truth be told, he still _looked_ bizarre to her, but that was steadily losing its impact. It probably helped that she had a hard time looking away from his eyes – they were just so _human_ , full of emotion and expressive and exactly what she was used to seeing. And the rest of him was slowly becoming normal, most especially his smile…and his _arms_. 

Good god, his arms were sexy as hell. She kept getting this weird urge to nip and bite at him, and one part she _really_ wanted to nip and bite were his biceps. It was crazy and weird and insane and _weird_ , but there it was. 

Maybe someday she’d actually do it. 

The next morning she woke feeling almost stupidly good, and it practically set the tone for her entire life. Her talk with Gil ended well, with him agreeing to see if he can rework the schedules in such a way that she could get two days off in a row together (she’d kind of accidentally admitted that she wanted it that way so she could spend more time with her boyfriend; Gil had chuckled, winked, and said, “I’ll see what I can do…”) 

Following that, she gleefully informed Mikey of the change and he’d squealed (they were talking on the phone) and declared her the bestest perfect girlfriend of all time. The praise had her laughing almost to the point of hysterics – which was his goal, she was sure. Nothing made him happier than making her laugh, it seemed. 

She’d also told him that she’d inadvertently told Sam about their dates, but Mikey didn’t seem displeased with that. “We could just meet him. I’m cool with that,” he’d offered. 

Hah, _no._ It was still way too soon for that. At the very least, first Lisa had to fully convince Sam that her mystery boyfriend wasn’t Jack the Ripper. Then she had to rebuild his trust in her so he would actually believe her when she said nothing bad was going on. Then, and only then, could a meeting take place. 

Sam…wasn’t being very cooperative about her three-step plan, had taken to watching her more closely. It put a little bit of a hamper on her dates, driving her avoid the sewers and, instead, meet Mikey in alleys or on rooftops. He shadowed her along her way, of course, meaning that the two times (so far) that Sam physically tailed her ended with him losing her, growing frustrated, and going home empty-handed – all thanks to Mikey pulling her into hiding places with him. 

Honestly, she found those events kind of hilarious. Having a ninja for a boyfriend was a _ton_ of fun. 

Now that they had the all-clear for her to visit Mikey’s home, that was their preferred hang-out spot; it was secluded, private, secure, and full of all kinds of fun objects and trinkets. The second time Lisa visited there, she and Mikey had spent most of their time messing around in his skate room to some old hip hop tunes from the 70s and 80s. 

She was still better with her rollerblades than anything else, but he was steadily teaching her to skateboard – and doing a way better job of it than any other guy so far. It was difficult, of course; she was used to skating with her feet facing forward and the skateboard required her feet to be sideways, instead. But even so, she was enjoying herself and making the transition well. 

They also talked a lot about their pasts, too. She learned about the first time the guys had come to the surface – the Foot Clan had been up to no good so the brothers had gone topside to put a stop to it, setting the tone for a slew of such trips – and some of their bigger adventures. When he got to the part when he mentioned defeating Shredder, namely by April kicking him in the face while he dangled from a falling tower, Lisa was briefly confused. 

Hadn’t that been Vern Fenwick? 

Mikey _laughed_ when she pointed that out, correcting her and letting her know the truth: that Vern was just their cover. He’d still gotten shot during the scuffle, but ultimately Vern had done little but drive a couple vehicles and distract and K-O Eric Sacks. 

In return for these stories, Lisa talked about some of her own life events. Case in point: when she got into hip hop, breakdancing, and rollerblading. The latter was a desire she got when she was seven or eight, watching figure skaters on TV and wanting so bad to be one, herself. Her mother had talked her down from ice skates to rollerskates (due mainly to the fact that there was no way they were going to be able to afford lessons), and eventually Lisa made the upgrade to rollerblades. 

She hasn’t slowed down since. 

She’d always kind of been into hip hop, but it reached a peak when she was ten and walking home with Sam one day – she couldn’t recall where they’d been – and they happened upon a street dancer. His name was Jerome, a black man with corn rows he kept back in a tie, which he’d been growing out to donate to Wigs for Kids. 

Lisa had stopped dead, entranced, and – due to the fact that she’d been much bolder as a kid – she’d strode right up to him and asked him to show her how he did “all that”. Kind man that he was, he agreed, and she went home almost an hour later knowing how to do handstands, poses, and the basic understanding of flares (yet to be mastered). She’d returned to Jerome and his lessons over and over, right up until she found out he’d been arrested a few years later. 

She still didn’t know what he’d been convicted of (no one would tell her), but she was willing to wait for him to get out to find that out. In the meantime she’d made a slew of breakdancer friends, so she kept that up – and that’s how she was introduced to DJing. 

When she was fourteen, she got invited to a club (Sam escorted her) and she became entranced with the remixes she heard that night. She’d taken to researching it on her own when it turned out her friends had no grasp of it, and it resulted in her friendships flagging as she grew steadily more obsessed with DJing. In the end, she’d had no b-boy or b-girl friends left, and this was also right around when her bullying was at its worst. 

A few years passed before she changed schools and, with it, made new friends. Friends who were into DJing, friends who didn’t judge or backstab her, friends who were worth it – friends like Jocelyn. That was just over two years ago, now, and her life been on a steady incline ever since. 

Mikey listened to her life story like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard. And, at the end, he grinned and commented, “Is it still inclining?” 

He was referring to himself, of course. It was entirely too obvious. The question, the sly yet hesitant look on his face, the rapt attention on her…yeah, he couldn’t have made it _more_ clear if he’d said the words aloud. 

She tried to fight off her own grin – failed – and replied sincerely, “Like a shooting star.” 

Granted, shooting stars _fell_ , but still. She couldn’t think of anything more “up” than that. 

Her boyfriend was so elated by that, he’d tackled her and smothered her in a cute, pecking kisses while she dissolved into delighted giggles. God, he was the best; she would’ve thought that this much direct affection would overwhelm and irritate her, especially considering this was her first real relationship, but…it didn’t. 

The more Mikey clung to her, giving cuddles and kisses and – yes – churrs, the more she fell for him. Maybe she was just that affection-starved (and so was he, apparently), but she never wanted more space. 

Every date of theirs from then on followed a series of loose parameters: they met up, kissed, went somewhere, had a ton of fun, Mikey provided food (even on the days when she’d brought her own), he walked her home, they hung out and talked for as long as possible…and sometimes they made out. 

Well, more like ‘almost every time’. And, to be perfectly honest, they were steadily _going places_ with that; the last time occurred at her sewer exit and ended with her pinned against the ladder, seated on his thigh (which he’d helpfully given for support), legs tight around his waist, while he’d devoured her neck. 

It’d been incredible – her pulse hammering away at her veins, her head swimming, her body practically singing with pleasure – but she’d had to stop it there. Her body wanted so badly to rock against him, so turned on she could feel how wet she was and her nipples were rock hard, yet that had been her limit. She couldn’t take it if it went any further. Worse, Mikey had _such_ a hard time recovering from that tryst, making her feel so bad for saying ‘no’. 

But he’d asked her to, so she did. Still, recognizing how he’d been shaking with need and had to take several moments to compose himself before he could even back off to let her down…it’d made her feel horrible. At that moment, she’d wanted nothing more than to at least finish _him_ off – it was only fair, after all – but the idea was still too scary to her. 

_Next time, maybe,_ she’d thought – for the dozenth time. When, exactly, would she come through with that promise? When would the “next time” actually occur? 

_Soon,_ she assured herself. 

The fact that she couldn’t make that promise to anyone but thin air made it ring hollow, filling her with guilt over her own inability to go further than frenching. 

It’s not that she didn’t want to cross that line with him – because she did! – but rather that she had no idea what it entailed. Porn videos aside, she didn’t know how she was going to react, how it would feel, if it would be good or just really bad, or even what she’d think of _him_ once she got to see all of him. 

Maybe she’d find every inch of him sexy. Maybe it’d scare her. She had no idea and was too nervous to find out. 

But it wasn’t fair to keep getting him all revved up just to leave him cold. He obviously wanted to give her _everything;_ he’d made this abundantly clear with the way he always seemed to focus on things which brought _her_ pleasure. At the very least, she thought, she should let him go through with _something_. 

But, god, she was still wearing her binders around him! How could she possibly let him go far enough to have anything sexually fulfilling when she couldn’t even face him sans binder? 

It took her a few minutes to realize she’d just come up with the solution to her own problem. 

* * *

Date number twenty, the big two-oh! 

Not that Mikey was counting or anything. Oh, no, he’d just been carving notches into his wall in commemoration of the events, that’s all. 

Not really, of course, but Lisa had believed him when he’d said so, so he’d been tempted him to go ahead and carve notches into his walls anyway. Ultimately, though, he’d brushed off the idea; it was kind of silly, even for him. Besides, he had a better one: painting all of Lisa’s nails as a fun little “20th date” celebration. 

He hoped she’d agree. He’d already gotten Jocelyn to agree, sharing her numerous bottles of polish. All he needed now was for Lisa to give him the “okay”. 

It was Tuesday, the first of Lisa’s days off for this week, and they were meeting as soon as the sun set. With her brother still at work, they had time and cover, so they met in the sewer as usual. The instant the coast was clear, he shoved the manhole cover out of the way and Lisa quickly crossed to it, dropping the whole way down with a little hop. 

It’d rained all day yesterday and most of the day today, so the whole sewer system had an influx of water right then. Her feet hit the river at the bottom with a _splash_. 

She giggled. “Oops, I forgot water runs down here.” 

Instantly forgiving her for that, he closed the cover, then pulled her in for a strong, I-missed-you kiss. Lisa, the delightful girl she was, molded herself to him, arms banding around his neck as she stood up on her toes for him. It felt amazing, almost pulling a churr out of him right off the bat. God, he’d missed her. 

Something felt weird, though; he had to break the kiss, something bugging him. Tilting his head, he tried to figure it out – had she said something over texts recently, something important he’d missed? Was she wearing lipstick? She looked normal, in a hoodie and pants and her favorite high-tops (she had three pairs now, thanks to her job providing her with enough money for luxuries). 

So why did he feel like something had changed? 

Blinking up at him, she ventured, “Uh, Mikey? Sweetie? Boo? What’s up?” 

Did she just seriously call him _boo?_ Ugh, he loved her so much! Grinning now, he answered, “Nothin’ – just thinking how much I missed you.” 

Her cheeks darkened at once, head ducking down as she winced, biting her lip on a wide smile. 

_Swoon!_

“C’mon,” he directed, taking a step back and, by extension, giving her a moment to recover. “Got a surprise for you,” he told her. 

Glancing away, she replied, “Yeah? Me, too…” 

She did?! His excitement ramped higher, wondering what her surprise was. He didn’t want to pester her about it – the whole point of a ‘surprise’ was to not talk about it beforehand – but god if he didn’t want to know already. A part of him wanted to just demand it now, whatever it was. 

But that wouldn’t be fair. She had to wait for her surprise; he could wait for hers. 

Checking the urge to ask for it now, he instead offered, “Wanna take my board today?” 

She was starting to really like it, he’d noticed; more and more she wanted to skate together with him, and _oof,_ his heart took another arrow every time. Granted, more often than not she just put on her skates and went alongside him, and he enjoyed the hell out of that, but he just loved it so much when he had her in his arms. 

Today, contemplating the water running through the sewer, she answered, “Uh, yeah. I think that’d be best.” 

A great point, he thought; her skates wouldn’t get much traction here. And so – trying to hide how elated he was – he popped off his board, set it down, and took up point. As soon as Lisa joined him on the board – facing him, no less! Ugh, _swoon!_ – he secured his grip on her and off they went. 

By now no one was surprised to see Lisa show up. Much like what’d happened with Jo over a year ago, once Lisa started stopping by she just kind of fit in. Mikey’s bros were doing some kind of activity involving Donnie’s drone, Dronie, as they climbed up the pipes and took readings. 

They went around Mikey and Lisa without problem, and Leo even waved him off when he asked if they would need his help with whatever it was they were up to. 

“Just checking structure integrity,” Leo told him. “Donnie thinks with a few strategic upgrades we could add in another few rooms without sacrificing stability.” 

That was _way_ too many big words, but Mikey was _pretty_ sure he understood all that. “Oh, cool,” was his bland response. 

From above, Raph called, “Hey numbnuts, what would happen if you lost a wheel on your board?” 

Ignoring the ‘affectionate’ nickname, Mikey replied, confused, “I’d fall over?” 

“Exactly. Same with the Lair. Just makin’ sure we got enough wheels.” 

Oohhhhh. The analogy clicking, Mikey nodded, replying smartly, “Got it. Thanks, meathead.” 

“Anytime, dipshit.” 

Lisa was smirking and shaking her head by now. “Seriously?” she questioned no one. 

Chuckling, Mikey led them up past the kitchen and to his room. Once there, he rounded on her with a grin, saying, “So, you wanna–”

At the same time, Lisa blurted, “So I have a–” 

A beat of silence passed, and then they were laughing again. Twenty dates in and they were _still_ doing that! Ahh, that made him so weirdly happy. 

Recovering first, she offered, “You first.” 

Nodding, he replied, “Was gonna ask if you wanted to do something fun.” 

Arching a brow, she quipped, “Don’t I always?” 

Excellent point. Getting excited now, Mikey brought her over to where he’d stashed the nail polish bottles (out in the open, on his dresser, in full light – not _stashed_ at all, really), revealing them with a grandiose, “Tada!” 

Tilting her head, amused but confused, she asked, “What’s all this?” 

“Was gonna ask if I could paint your nails,” he explained, shuffling a little. 

Surprised, she turned a startled look to him. “You wanna paint my nails?” she checked. When he nodded, she blurted, “Why, though?” 

Feeling corny as hell, he explained, “It’s our twentieth date. You have twenty nails, so….” 

For a moment there was silence as Lisa processed that; then, in a blink, she grinned with a drawn-out, “Aaawwwww!” Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugged him tight, and he happily accepted the embrace. 

“That a ‘yes’?” he teased. 

Giggling, she answered, “Y-yeah, baby boy….that’s a yes.” Then, biting her lip, she withdrew – he missed her already – and ventured, “So, um….I didn’t realize this was an occasion and whatever, but….I kinda have a gift, too.” 

Oh, was it his turn already? He may or may not be bouncing on his toes with anticipation (okay, he totally was). “Yeah?” he prompted. 

Lisa was blushing, he saw immediately, looking awkward as hell. Now he was just getting even _more_ excited; what was this gift?! He had to know! 

Hands fisting at the zipper to her hoodie, she shifted left and right, hesitant but clearly building up to something. He could hear her dragging a nail down the metal teeth, she was so tense. Worry started to filter in, then, making him wonder if he should tell her to _not_ do this….whatever-it-was. 

Then she blurted sharply, “Turn around.” 

_Done._ He even took a step back as he spun, figuring the additional room would help cool her down. Then, very clearly, he heard the sound of the zipper being pulled and a rustle of cloth as she removed the hoodie. His face pinched as he pondered the sound, confused, wondering if she’d just chosen a specific kind of shirt today. 

Suffice to say his mind wasn’t putting two and two together very well. 

Antsy but staying in place, as directed, he waited with a growing sense of anticipation– 

“O-okay, you can….turn around,” she murmured. 

Gleefully, Mikey did so, and it was on the tip of his tongue to say something silly – another “tada” maybe – but what he saw shut him up in a heartbeat, his eyes immediately snagging on smooth flesh. 

Holy shit, holy shit, holy snorkling Jesus _shit!_ She wasn’t wearing a binder today! **[Underneath that hoodie was a black tank top](https://78.media.tumblr.com/d8f2b11105467b8a04e9fc1141da0ecf/tumblr_p6qv47KGnW1wtuqpio2_r3_1280.png)** and – and, oh man, when she said she was “big”, he didn’t realize she really meant _gigantic!_ Her breasts were so….so _round,_ so freaking _there_ , and it immediately set his libido to “go”. His hands twitched, wanting so bad to reach out and feel them, find out if they were as soft as they looked. 

Lisa was notably uncomfortable, though; she kept shifting in place and changing the position of her arms – folded, fists-on-hips, relaxed, stuffed in her pockets, behind her back….she was visibly having a hard time with this reveal. 

So he made the effort to stop staring, fighting through his shock. _Eyes up,_ he ordered himself – it was _really hard_ to obey. _Look up. Quit starin’. Eyes up. C’mon, she’s gonna freak if you keep this up!_

With difficulty, he finally managed the feat, tearing his gaze off her incredible rack and deep cleavage and – _Don’t you fucking look again!!_

Clearing his throat, he ventured, “Yeah, think your surprise was better than mine.” 

She gave a shocked giggle, looking like she wanted to run away. Melting on the spot, he stepped in and hugged her, heartened now that the initial shock was fading. She’d seriously taken a huge step today, he realized then; once upon a time, she’d said that not wearing a binder was more uncomfortable than heat stroke. 

Now she was clearly trying to move past that, and it warmed him to his core. God, she trusted him so much, he thought. This was probably the most difficult, most courageous thing she’d ever done, and the fact that she did it for – or because of – him? 

_God. Fucking. Swoon._

And, he realized all at once, _this_ was why he’d had that ‘something is different’ feeling earlier. It’s because something literally _was_ different! The embrace felt slightly off from usual, but since his plastron could only feel very little, he hadn’t been able to put two and two together before. Her breasts were actually putting a few inches – and some notable softness – between them. 

That was freaking _amazing._ He had to fight to keep his dick from getting hard – and, by extension, ruining the moment – but he was so turned on right then it was hard not to. Not just because of her bangin’ tits, but also because of how emotional he felt just then. 

Opening up this far….trusting him this much….it made want to make love to her so bad. He was fully aware that that was out of the question at present, but he couldn’t quite stop the thoughts from going through his mind. Imagining kissing her as he stripped her clothing, leaving warm pecks all over her body, tantalized him. Imagining kissing and kneading her breasts, in particular, was now added to the roster of Things He Really Really Wanted To Do, almost driving him nuts from the effort it took to keep himself from acting on it. 

He knew better, though – he could feel Lisa’s internal struggle, from the way she fisted her hands just under his shell to how she kept her head down and breathed just a little bit shakily. 

A weaker man would’ve been all over those tits by now. But in Mikey’s case? _Ninja Training: Activated._ He built up an iron will, telling himself to _not_ stare at any point today, that the most important thing he could do now was to act normal, to give her space and time. It was going to be hard, but damn it, he was going to succeed if it killed him. 

_Dude, she let you get this close, closer than anyone else has ever been,_ he coached himself. _Be chill. Everything else’ll happen eventually. Go at her speed._

And so, withdrawing from the hug, he gave her a wide grin. After all, this gift of hers had been amazing, but they hadn’t gotten to his, yet! He declared, “So! My turn, now? I’ll let you pick the colors,” he offered. 

For a second Lisa looked startled and – scared? _Poor girl._ Then she gave a strained laugh, looked at the nail polish bottles, swallowed, and nodded. “Uh, s-sure?” she ventured. 

_Distract her._ He had no idea where that order had come from, but he obeyed easily, pivoting towards the collection of bottles and starting to check them, reading off their shades for her. “Banana split, raspberry kiss, forest green, yankee doodle – yankee doodle?” he added to himself. It was kind of orange-ish; who was naming these things? 

To her, he offered the bottle, saying, “I’d have called it ‘orange creamsicle’.” 

She examined the color, then chuckled. “Of course you would,” she said to herself. Then, curious, she ventured, “Where’d you even get all these?” 

“Jo,” he explained, starting to sort through and organize them – again. He’d done this four times already, looking for the most aesthetic rainbows and combinations. There were a lot to pick from, a whole fifteen bottles in the collection. 

“Jo?” Lisa echoed, surprised. “All these are _hers?”  
_

“Yep,” he agreed. Selecting one, he displayed it, saying, “D’you like sparkles?” This one was straight-up golden glitters, and he was strongly considering putting this on all of her nails after giving them a color, just to add some gorgeous sparkling. 

Lisa was starting to grin, he saw, looking at him like he was her hero. “Yeah, I do,” she answered, her tone so warm and loving and – _ugh!_

Motherfucking _swoon!_

He couldn’t resist looping an arm around her waist and leaning in to kiss her, feeling too affectionate and appreciative to stop himself. At that moment, he made an addendum to his former order to himself: don’t stare at her tits, but definitely kiss her whenever the inclination hit him. 

As he slowly, slowly broke the kiss, he snagged another bottle and crept it into her line of sight with a murmured, “Lotus Passion?” 

She burst out laughing, head tossed back as her delighted laughs filled his room. 

_Mission successful._


	18. Her Worst Moments

**Rating:** R (swearing/sensitive topics/trigger warning: bullying, sexual assault)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Well, this was one way to celebrate a dating milestone, Lisa mused. After receiving her agreement, Mikey had gone for her feet first, so she’d removed her shoes and socks. Now she was laying back on his bed, a foot on his thigh, as he carefully painted each of her toes, and it was the most adorable event of her life, bar none. 

She kept biting her lip as she watched him, both amused and heartened by the focused look on his face as he went about his task. She honestly didn’t think she’d ever seen him so serious before – and it stressed how much this moment meant to him. 

She’d given him “house pick” regarding the colors, so she just hummed and grinned a lot whenever he picked a new bottle. And as he worked, they chatted. It was mostly nonsense – little jokes meant to eke out a chuckle of the other or smart comments about little life events – but after a while things grew a bit more serious. 

Mikey was shockingly slow with his project, only three nails in when he asked a very sensitive question. She’d just offhandedly mentioned that, yes, going binder-free today had been _incredibly_ difficult for her, but also one of the most freeing moments of her life thus far. Now that the initial wall had been knocked down, she was strangely relaxed. 

And she would’ve remained so, had her boyfriend not ventured quietly, “Can I ask you something? About, uh….your past?” 

Hesitant, she replied carefully, “That….depends. What, um….what’s the question?” 

He gave her something of a mercy by choosing then to put away one bottle and select another, rifling through the collection as he said, “I was just curious about….about the worst thing you’ve experienced.” 

Oh. Oh, _shit,_ that was his question?! Awkward and not a little distressed, she almost denied him outright – a huge part of her wanted to scream “no!” 

Instead, she murmured, “Um….why d’you wanna know that?” 

“Just thinking….gotta know the worst before I can give you the best, y’know?” he offered, finally picking a bright blue color. It reminded her of his eyes. 

And she saw, as he shook the bottle and then twisted it open, that he was being kinder than ever before – by avoiding her gaze. It gave her this tiny little shroud, a kind of hiding place all to herself. Sure, they were facing one another and it was pretty bright in here, but still. She _felt_ somewhat protected, and that was enough. 

But how did she even answer that question? She had several “worst” stories – how did she even rank them? Glancing over at the wall, she answered awkwardly, “That’s….hard to pick. I’ve had a….a few….experiences. Y’know, that fit. Um….” 

She trailed off, feeling more and more reluctant to talk by the second, and the feel of cold polish on her toenail wasn’t much help with that. Still, she admitted Mikey was probably right – at least in that she had to talk about her experiences before she could get over them. 

In the past she’d just….ignored them. It probably wasn’t very healthy. 

Her boyfriend was silent for a while; then, looking up at last, polish brush held aloft, he ventured, “Lisa? ….Bae?” 

She couldn’t help a grin. Did he seriously just call her ‘bae’? Looking back to him, she replied, “Yeah?” 

He paused, then declared, “You look _really_ cute right now.” 

At once a surge of nerves raced through her and she covered her face with both hands, a sharp squeak escaping her. How _dare_ he! She barely stopped herself from rolling left and right and kicking her feet, holding still with difficulty. 

That _jerk,_ being so nice and complimentary and sweet and – _ugh!_ God, if she wasn’t in love with him yet – which she still wasn’t certain she was! – then it damn well wouldn’t take much longer. 

Chuckling, he gave her ankle a tug, reminding her that he still had a job to do. Aloud, he commented, “Anyway, forget what I asked. If it’s too hard….I don’t want you getting upset, y’know?” 

That successfully calmed the butterflies in her belly, and her hands dropped so she could examine him. Yep – focused on her toes once more, all business. Only….she could see a grim set to his mouth, a look that said he really _did_ want to know about the worst memories she held. 

A thought rose in response to that look: _If I tell him, if I let him help shoulder my scars, maybe I can finally let go of them…._

And that was it. It wasn’t his words that won her over, but rather his expression, his emotions – his heart. 

Without a single thought of how to plan this out, she heard herself start to tell a story. 

She’d been a fresh, young fourteen years then. Despite her age, she’d had a notable _start_ to her development, and the teasing had already begun. Every day she’d gone through the halls at school just a little more hunched over, trying to hide what her body refused to stop growing. 

Yet, despite the harsh, rude comments she kept getting, a part of her remained hopeful – remained _trusting_. So when an older girl defended her against a pack of boys who’d been closing in around her, Lisa had all but clung to the tall, confident blonde. 

Her first mistake. 

Aloud, Lisa explained softly, “She asked me if I wanted to come by her place after school and hang out. I should’ve known better,” she added to herself. “She was this preppy, chic, popular blonde girl, and I was the weird skater girl. We don’t mesh, y’know? Desiree told me not to go, but I so badly wanted to be her friend, I just ignored all the warning signs.” 

Still visibly grim and getting no better with time, Mikey had her switch feet then, making sure she didn’t brush anything with her still-drying pinky nail. He asked, “Who’s Desiree?” 

“Ex-friend of mine,” Lisa told him. “At the time, she was my _only_ friend. I lost everyone else when I got wrapped up in DJing, but Desiree stuck around. She had it as bad as I did – sorta. She was a nerdy girl, with the huge, curly hair and the extra-thick glasses. She looked like Anne Hathaway from The Princess Diaries,” she explained, “except she was darker-skinned. I keep forgetting her ethnicity, though – something starting with ‘a’, I think.” 

God, Lisa had the worst memory sometimes. Forgetting Donatello’s name two months prior had just been a preview – she commonly forgot all kinds of words, from names to places to freaking verbs. There were times she’d be struggling to recall a word for days, only for it to come to her weeks later. 

Desiree’s ethnic background was one such word, consistently escaping Lisa’s recollection. 

“Anyway,” she went on, shaking herself out of that thought train, “the point is, I went to – uh…whatever-her-name-was’s place.” Another thing she couldn’t recall, haha. 

Curious, Mikey asked, “You don’t remember her name?” 

Lisa shook her head. “Nah. She had one of those typical white girl names, like Brittany or Lindsay or something, I don’t remember. Not that I care. The worst thing you can do to a bully is forget them, anyway,” she said with a measure of ice to her tone. 

That blonde had earned Lisa’s ire, and, honestly, her greatest shame was that she’d let the other girl dictate so much of her life afterwards. The blonde hadn’t deserved such an honor. 

But now Lisa had the last laugh – namely, she had the greatest boyfriend, the best job, and the happiest life. She couldn’t have wished for better….and she was willing to bet that Brindsay didn’t have it half as good. _Karma._

Thoughts back in order, Lisa went on, “So….yeah, I went to her house, and at first it was great. She had a suburban house, all nice and pristine with everything in order, and it was….entrancing. Our house was less than half the size of hers, and while we _did_ keep things clean, we couldn’t always afford stuff like plaster and paint for damaged walls, so her place was pretty stunning to me.” 

Hesitating then, thinking ahead to what had happened later than day, she continued more quietly, “And she….she freaking spiked my drink, knocked me out. Dunno where she got it, but….um, anyway,” she muttered, shaking her head to clear out the dark clouds – and noticing how still and tense Mikey had become, no longer focused on her nails at all. 

God, knowing he was watching her right then was making it harder. Still, she’d started the story, so she forced herself to finish it – even as her voice started to tremble from the memory of her fear. 

“I woke up to find her and two of her friends were carrying me up to her room. I couldn’t move yet, though, so I couldn’t do anything about it. Then they kinda just….dropped me, but I don’t think that was intentional. They were just that freaking weak,” she added with a dry laugh. “Still hurt, though….” she murmured, recalling the stinging pain in her back and head from the fall. 

To her surprise, she felt Mikey start to rub her foot, though he seemed to be doing so unconsciously. It felt nice, to be honest, so she didn’t mind. In fact, it was helpfully relaxing; she wondered if this was some kind of empathic thing of his, offering comforting touches instinctively. 

It got a lot harder to talk then, though, despite the foot rub. The girls had started arguing – one of them saying something like “why are we even doing this?” and Brindsay replying “I just wanna see if it’s true”. 

Lisa’s lovely boyfriend sharply cut in then, saying, “You can stop.” 

Surprised, she snapped out of her reverie to focus on him. “I know,” she murmured, thinking that he gave her way too many outs. It was so endearing – he wanted so badly to know more about her, but at the same time, he wanted to avoid causing her any distress. 

_Such_ a sweetheart. She was going to have to repay him for all this thoughtfulness, she vowed then. Somehow she’d push past her inhibitions to reward him. 

Aloud, she went on with her story, saying, “In my head, I was panicking, but my body still wouldn’t respond. That kind of….helplessness….there’s no describing it,” she added quietly. Trying to get her body to wake up, to force her limbs to respond while something humiliating loomed closer by the second…. 

She still bore scars from that event. 

To her surprise, Mikey moved then, just kind of folding over towards her. He ended up with his head on her stomach, arms winding around her in a hold. And despite the horror of this memory, she found herself smiling, his support doing wonders in feeding her strength. 

It gave her just the push she needed to finish her story. 

“She, uh…. _succeeded_. Pushed up my shirt and bra. I remember hearing gasps and one of the girls laughing. ‘Haha, look, she’s bigger than _you,_ Sara!’“ Then, with a mental jolt, she blurted, “ _Sara,_ that was her name!” 

Her boyfriend made this adorable little whine then, starting to show more distress than she felt. Honestly, the more she talked about this, the easier it became. She’d been so scared to face this memory she must have turned it into a demon stronger than it had to be. Now that she was facing it, though, she was discovering just how tiny of an event it truly was. 

It didn’t stop the ache from settling in her chest, though. She distracted herself by starting to pet at Mikey, along his neck and shoulders and the edge of his shell. He didn’t churr, but she felt him shifting towards her touch whenever she started to lift her hand away. 

It was helpful in keeping her mind in the present. 

She took a breath, sighed, then hurried to end the story. “Anyway, I heard her say to get a camera, and I guess my panic was enough to wake up my limbs, cause suddenly I was on my feet. Sara told the others to block the doorway but I just plowed through them and ran out. I was crying the whole way home, on and off….” 

God, how embarrassing that had been. Not just the utter humiliation of knowing three girls were staring at her naked chest, but then crying during a twenty-minute bus ride home. The bystander effect had been in full swing that day, too, with no one acknowledging the tear-stained fourteen-year-old curled up on a bench. To this day, she still couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than having some stranger ask her if she was okay. 

“Sam was super pissed off,” she went on thoughtfully. “He was yelling, cursing – my grandparents are Catholic, did I ever mention that?” she asked. 

Still hiding in her midriff, Mikey shook his head, silent. 

“Well, they are,” she told him. “They were pretty pissed, too, and even though they had a ‘no cursing’ rule in the house, they didn’t stop Sam’s rant. Eventually he went out and was gone for most of the night. I don’t know what he did, but the next day Sara wasn’t at school. Or the next. She wasn’t hurt, but she looked terrified when I saw her next, and she avoided me like the plague, so I guess Sam did something….bad.” 

Taking a shaky breath to get her bearings, she lifted her arm, running her fingers over the scars on her inner elbow. “That’s what started _this,”_ she added quietly, recalling the memory of her cutting with a measure of shame. 

Mikey glanced up then, saw what she was doing, and dropped his head back down again. To her hips, he murmured, “Shouldn’t’ve let her have that much power over you.” 

“No, I shouldn’t’ve,” Lisa agreed with a dry laugh. “But it’s….what happened. The first time was an accident….I was just washing dishes and got cut on a veggie knife….and then it just started happening. It helped me….forget….the fear, the humiliation…. the pain….” 

It wasn’t until then that she noticed her eyes were swimming in tears. God, when had that happened? She snuffled, shifting, and was about to ask for a tissue when Mikey suddenly snapped his gaze up to her. Concern radiated off him, and the almost heartbroken look on his face made it hard to keep hold of his gaze – yet, at the same time, she couldn’t look away. 

He crawled over her then, bracing himself as he went, until he was close enough to kiss her. She accepted it gratefully, all too happy to have his affection. His hand came up to stroke her cheek as they kissed, and it was such a sweet, tender thing that butterflies started up in her stomach again. 

It was weird, though – he was freaking on top of her, and yet it didn’t feel sexual at all. If anything, she was comforted, though the sweetness of the moment only made her eyes the wetter. Soon she felt tears slide down her temples, and a sudden wash of embarrassment had her breaking the kiss to swipe them away. 

Mikey didn’t stop her. He just ducked down to run his mouth along her neck, drawing a shiver out of her. He said, “I wish I coulda protected you from that.” 

He sounded so grim, she thought, so….despondent. Honestly, she wished the event hadn’t happened, too – but, at the same time, a new thought entered her mind. 

Where would she be now, if it hadn’t? Sure, she’d suffered a great deal in the following years thanks to Sara’s actions utterly wrecking her ability to trust others and her self-confidence, but….without that particular occurrence, what would’ve happened to her? She never would’ve swapped schools, in all likelihood – never would have met Jocelyn or been invited to that birthday party for the brothers. 

She never would have met Mikey. 

Aloud, she replied, “It’s okay….I mean, think about it. Yeah, it sucked, but if you follow the events….the way the dominoes fell….we never would’ve met, otherwise. And even if we did, if I hadn’t lost all confidence in myself for those few years, I probably really would’ve had a boyfriend when we met. And that would suck,” she concluded. 

The look he gave her then – head tilted, with a lopsided grin – told her she’d just said the exact right thing. 

“The silveriest of all linings,” he declared. 

She snorted. “That’s not a word, baby boy,” she chided. 

“Is now.” 

“That’s not how–”

“Is now,” he repeated firmly. 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“Yeah-huh.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“Yeah-huh.” 

“Weirdo,” she accused. 

“Cutie,” he shot back. 

The compliment caught her off guard, making her squeak and cover her face again. She was grinning behind her hands, though, and when he nuzzled against her ear – she clearly heard a churr, as if he were doing it intentionally to thrill her – her grin got bigger. She squirmed; he rolled to his back and took her with, drawing another surprised noise out of her. 

Now situated on his chest, a little askew, she glanced at him from between her fingers. He looked so pleased with himself, she saw, just grinning with warmth in his eyes, and it made her hide her face more fully. Then he started petting her hair, and she learned something about herself: she freaking _loved_ that sensation. She was relaxing in seconds, giving a happy hum at the feel. 

“Gee,” he teased, “didn’t know you were a cat.” 

“Me neither,” she replied, tilting her head when he found a particularly sweet spot. “Makes sense, though.” 

“Oh, definitely,” he agreed as he kept up his affection. “As we all know, cats are the best DJs and break-dancers.” 

“And they enjoy vegetarian diets,” she agreed. 

That gave him pause. “Cats can’t be vegetarian–” 

Glancing up at him, she interrupted, “They eat only the finest vegetarians.” 

That got him; he gave a snort before breaking into loud laughs. Grinning, Lisa admired his amused face, thinking to herself that he was legit the cutest guy she’d ever known. Maybe it was partly the fact that he was reptilian, but she couldn’t have wished up a cuter boy. 

….Maybe she _was_ in love with him already…. 

* * *

The pair got back on track after that, Mikey picking up where he left off. And Lisa….she still wanted to talk. One other event kept going around in her mind, and though it was arguably the worse of the two stories, she was feeling a strong urge to talk about it. After all, getting the story about Sara off her chest had been incredibly liberating, making her want to release all of the dark clouds in her mind. 

Telling one story had cleared a lot of negativity from inside her. Surely telling another would have the same effect. 

She just wasn’t sure it was the right time to get to it. After that happy little cuddle-and-laugh session, their spirits were high; she didn’t want to bring them back down. So, considering her options, she opted to ask first. 

Laying back again, with Mikey back to painting her nails, she queried, “Hey, boo?” 

He grinned. Glancing up at her, he replied, “Yeah, bae?” 

_Oh, please let this be a thing,_ she thought, amused as hell by their nicknames. But, opting to keep focused, she ventured carefully, “Um….you asked about my worst experiences, and….there’s one more. Can I…?” 

He paused, his face falling; then, shaking himself, he gave a nod. “Of course you can,” he told her. “I’ll listen to everything you wanna talk about. Just call me your personal autobiography.” 

That….didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but she appreciated the sentiment. And she so badly wanted to get this story out, it was practically clawing at her throat. She’d take whatever kind of green light she could get at this point. 

Still, she hesitated over starting it, not really wanting to venture back to this particular memory. So she focused on her toes, watching as her boyfriend slowly worked on her final three nails, making the motions of his fingers her ground in the present. 

Aloud, she began, “It was a….a date. His name was Chain.” When Mikey glanced up at her then, disbelief written on his face, she gave a wry smile, confirming, “Yep – I said ‘Chain’. He said his parents picked it to be a reference to ‘Link’, meaning something that binds people together.” With a dry laugh, she went on, “They couldn’t have been more wrong. He was a jerk – though not at first.” 

Hesitant, he checked, “And he took you on a date?”

She nodded. “It was actually just last year, in November. That was the day I decided to heck with boys and dating. Not that that lasted too long,” she added with a smile at her boyfriend. 

He grinned. Then, sobering, he prompted, “Well, go on.” He sounded lighthearted, but she could see a reluctance in him, in the way he focused on her nails. 

So she told him, “Before I go on, lemme give you a spoiler: Sam broke his arm. Well – Sam wasn’t identified or accused, and he never admitted to it, but a couple days later Chain’s arm was broken. Doesn’t take a genius, y’know?” 

The little smile on Mikey’s face said he liked how the story ended. 

Back on track, she went on, “Anyway, Chain started off really decent. He spent weeks talking to me and kinda low-key flirting before he asked me out. By then I had a weird feeling about him but I kept telling myself it was just paranoia. Shoulda listened to my gut,” she added more quietly. 

“Well, whatever,” she declared, forcing her spirits to remain high despite feeling them start to drop. Already she wanted to yank the covers over her and just hide there. But she kept going, ignoring the tightness in her throat that kept trying to stop this story before it could get too personal. 

She couldn’t get over what she refused to face, after all. 

Going on, she said, “He took me to an arcade. It was my first real date with a boy I kinda liked, and it’d been so long that I decided, whatever, I’ll be myself. Won’t hide. I dressed up, wore my one and only dress, and tried to be courageous. Didn’t wear a binder for the first time in forever. And he didn’t point it out,” she added with a strangled laugh. 

“At the time, I was thinking, like – wow, y’know? He’s not staring or anything. He must really like me! But,” she added with a more somber tone, “I was wrong. He was just waiting. We had a fun time, then he took me home. He was already eighteen and had his license, so no need for an escort. But then, um….he just, like….turned aggressive….” 

It grew a lot harder to talk then. Recalling the way Chain had turned to her, pulled her in to kiss her without her approval, then started fondling her….it made her shudder. The unwanted touches, hands venturing to intimate places….it made her skin crawl just to remember it. Her heart was pounding from the memory of her panic, alone, and she had to focus to keep herself from shaking. 

“He kissed me,” she admitted to the ceiling, “and I didn’t want it but he wouldn’t let me go. I panicked. Trying to fight him off while trying to figure out how to unlock my door….it’s crazy, how hard that can be….” She took a shaky breath, steadying herself, then forced herself to continue. 

“He kept….grabbing at me. And I was yelling at him, like – stop it, this isn’t okay, I never said yes…. He got really mad and was like, yeah, whatever, like you don’t want this, look at that dress….” She sighed. “Why are so many boys such….disappointments?” she mused. 

She realized then that Mikey had stopped. Looking back down from the ceiling above, she found all her toes were bright colors now. And Mikey….he was just looking down at her nails, quiet and still in a way that worried her. 

To him, she asked, “You okay, boo?” 

Startled, he glanced up, looking surprised that she’d spoken to him. Then, ducking his head down again, he admitted, “Y-yeah….kinda….not really….” 

Concerned, she sat up, reaching out to lift his chin again. God, he looked so brokenhearted right then, it pained her. His eyes were so despondent, their color dull…. 

“Hey,” she murmured, growing more worried by the second. “What’s wrong?” 

Mousy and withdrawn, he confessed, “Just….Chain never asked if it was okay to kiss you….and….neither did I.” 

Oh – oh, _lord_ , that was so sad. “Hey, don’t think like that,” she told him, shifting to sit closer to him. “I totally wanted to kiss you. Maybe I didn’t say it out loud, but you obviously heard it anyway. You did nothing wrong,” she said firmly. 

Still subdued, he nonetheless looped his arms around her, pulling her around to sit in his lap. Her back mostly to his chest, he dropped his chin, resting his cheek on her shoulder. It was so precious she couldn’t resist reaching up to caress his neck and shoulder, tilting her head to rub her cheek against his head. 

It was cute, and just the levity she needed to finish her story – luckily there wasn’t much more to it, at least. 

“Anyway, long story short,” she finished in a rush, “I bit him, he tried to hit me and missed, I kicked him, then I got the door open and ran inside. He just–” she flung out a hand “–sped off. Came home with blood on my face and my dress stained, so of course everyone freaked out. It wasn’t my blood, though,” she added with a tiny little jolt of pride. 

She’d bit Chain so hard his lip had split. He’d _screamed_ from the pain, and it was the tiny silver lining of the event. He might’ve tried to get handsy with her, but he was the one with a visible scar from it. 

The problem was that key word: visible. Her scars were just under the surface. 

“I wanted to throw away that dress,” she added, “but Mom was like….we should donate it, instead. She took it to work, got the stain out, and donated it to a Goodwill. Hopefully it brought someone out there some good memories,” she said to herself. 

As silence stretched out between them, Lisa grew concerned again, so she started petting at Mikey. “You okay?” she murmured. 

God, it was weird asking him that question – usually it worked in reverse. Usually _he_ was the one walking on eggshells, checking on her mental and emotional state. How bizarre it was to be the one who was more stable, she thought wryly. 

He answered, “Yeah, just….it makes sense now. Why you turned me down the first time, I mean. It comes to mind occasionally, and I keep thinking….what could be so bad, to make a girl reject someone she obviously meshes with?” He paused, then finished quietly, “And now I get it.” 

She was silent for a while at that, feeling weirdly ashamed of herself. “Y-yeah, well….it’s just another domino, y’know? As bad as it was, it kept me away from boys….until you.” And, really, how angry could she be, knowing what she did now? 

It was like fate had set up a series of events special just to get the two of them to meet. Considering that, she couldn’t even hate Chain anymore. He’d done his job, just another pivotal piece that brought her and her boyfriend together. 

Mikey gave her a nuzzle, then commented tightly, “So, your bro broke his arm?” 

“That’s the unconfirmed story,” she agreed. “Why?” 

“….Thinkin’ I might go break his other arm,” he confessed. 

Oh, god, _no._ Trying to look at him from her position – not an easy task – she said, “No, Mikey – no more violence, okay? He got his. It’s over. Please, don’t….don’t start anything.” 

He was silent for a long, tense moment. Then he sat up, tossed her a grin, and made finger guns at her with a loud, “Gotcha!” 

_Nice try,_ she thought, even as she smiled. Pretending like he hadn’t been serious….it was heartening, but she knew better. “Yeah, got me good,” she agreed with a flagging tone. 

It seemed they both decided not to address their lies right then, because he glanced away, face conflicted. Other than keeping his arms around her, for a moment she got the impression he was outright ignoring her – straightening his thoughts, maybe. 

Shifting more towards him, she pulled his face around, giving him a kiss that said _I know, it’s okay_. 

The tentative way he kissed her back told her he was still shaking inside, so she made a snap decision, blurting, “Hey, when you’re done with my nails, can I paint yours, too?” 

That pulled a soft laugh from him. “Of course you can,” he assured her. But the distant look in his eyes said he wasn’t back just yet. 

She considered that, trying to think of a way to bring him back, and eventually settled on, “Thanks for listening to me. I feel way better now.” 

That got his gaze to focus, and he smiled at her. “Thanks for opening up,” he returned, voice soft. “It feels good to know you trust me this much.” 

It really did, didn’t it? She felt good about it, too, feeling way closer to him than before. A part of her, right then, wanted to say the words “I love you” – she wasn’t sure that she did yet, but she knew it would cheer him up to hear it. Still, she couldn’t make the words form, knowing what damage it would do if she were insincere and he noticed. 

Which he would. Intuitive boy that he was, he _always_ knew how she was feeling. He’d pick up on any lie she uttered, no problem, and it would only make everything worse. 

Instead, she found herself confessing, “Yeah, that….it’s weird, but I trust you more than anyone else, y’know?” Glancing away, hands twisting in her lap, she said, “I never trusted anyone else this much….not Jo, not even Sam….no one. I never told any of ‘em how I felt. Just you,” she finished in a tight whisper. 

There was a beat of stillness. Then, with a kind of whine, Mikey hugged her tight and started giving noisy kisses all along her head and neck. Delighted and tickled, she giggled like mad, squirming from the sensations. But he had her arms trapped, holding her hostage in his grasp, and it was all she could do to wriggle and laugh. 

It took her a while to gain enough control of herself to fight back – by turning her head to catch his next kiss with her lips. She felt him give a little jolt of surprise, and that feeling, coupled with her levity, made her bold. She licked him. 

With a moan, his arms loosened, allowing her to twist around to face him as their kissing turned passionate. She’d never quite felt this way before – needy, lighthearted, warm, a little quivery – and she made sure to cash in on it while she could. Her arms wound around his neck as she straddled him, feeling weirdly powerful in this position – and shocked with herself for _not_ feeling timid. 

Jesus, that talk had really done something to her, hadn’t it? 

Mikey seemed as surprised as she was, both eager and hesitant in turns….at first. As they made out, though, he gradually grew more demanding, kissing her more deeply as his hands pet at her back and ribs and hips. As their tongues played and explored, she had the fleeting thought that it was so weird for her to not feel the need to escape by now. She always had before. 

Then her boyfriend shifted and, holding her against him, leaned forward to lay them back. The bed sloshed and waved under them as they went. His mouth drifted down to her neck, kissing and sucking at her flesh, the sensation delightful, and yet – yep, there it was. Her nerves started acting up, making her cringe a little as she realized her limit hadn’t really moved that far. 

Tentative, a little ashamed of herself for starting this just to end it so soon, she ventured, “Um, s-so….I was promised a full mani-pedi….” 

At that, Mikey groaned, chin dropping to press his face into her shoulder. Biting her lip, she murmured, “Sorry, boo….I, um….sorry.” 

He shook his head, took a breath, then moved up again. He kissed her, his tongue giving a long, firm stroke against hers, and it sent a thread of pleasure all the way down her body. She shivered. 

Then, drawing back, he commented with a little smirk, “It’s fine. I just had to feel your stud one more time.” 

She squeaked, hands flying up to cover her face. He backed off her then, sitting up and pulling her with him, making her stop hiding so she could manage the feat. 

Once they both upright – with her legs still over his, feet braced against the edge of the frame in a position that only worked cause he was a _lot_ heavier than her and leaning against it, himself – he immediately reached over to the collection of nail polish bottles again. 

“Pineapple adventure,” he read, plucking a yellow one from the clutch. Then he got to work, starting with her left thumb, and she discovered their position worked really well. 

She braced her hands on her knees, letting him work, and once more they fell into discussions-slash-jokes about a myriad of topics. Every so often she caught him looking at her cleavage, but he was quick about tearing his gaze away – which was good, cause it made her want to fold her arms over her chest and doing that out of nowhere would just end with nail polish all over her hands. 

He was _such_ a good guy, she thought, admiring the way he kept snapping his focus back from her body to their little celebratory task. And, once he was done and her nails were dry, it was her turn to paint _his_ nails, like she’d requested. And she noticed, as she took a moment to compare the interesting design he’d chosen, lining up her finger- and toenails, that he was weirdly artistic and clever. 

There was a harmony to the shades, all the blues on her right side but mixed in with greens and yellows, none of the colors right beside a similar one. Yet they made a cute kind of rainbow in a light-to-dark circular manner, going around all her nails. It made her grin. 

And he’d put a second coat on all of her pinky nails in glittery gold. It was cute as hell. Honestly, he could do this professionally – not just because of his color choices, but because she wasn’t seeing any nail polish on her flesh. Anywhere. He’d done his job _perfectly,_ the freaking ninja. 

Elated, she happily shifted her position, directing, “Okay, same rule – feet first.” 

He hesitated a moment, then got up and went around her, saying, “Okay, one sec.” He went to his bathroom and she heard the shower turn on, surprising her. 

What the heck was he doing? It took her a moment to get it – he was washing off his feet. _Awww._ And, now that she was thinking about it, that was a smart move; she had no idea what kind of foot hygiene he had going on, but he clearly did. She was heartened all the more, now. 

But when he came back and her gaze dropped to his feet, she got a shock – he had two toes! Just the two! On each foot! 

She’d never looked before. Like, she’d been aware that Raph never wore shoes, but at no point had she looked at his feet. Now that she was seeing her boyfriend’s naked feet, she was surprised as hell. 

And, predictably, he noticed. Giving a wincing grin, he checked, “Uhh, you okay? Want me to go put my shoes back on?” 

It took her a moment of puzzling through her thoughts before she caught on to what he was saying. “Huh? What?” she said as she snapped back to attention, lifting her gaze. She saw him shuffling his foot, folding his toes and hiding them, and it made her cringe with shame. 

“No – it’s fine,” she assured him. “I just….never thought about this, and it just, like, it surprised me and whatever. But I’m good, I got it,” she promised him. Getting into a comfortable position, closer to the bottles of nail polish, she gestured him over. “C’mon. We made a deal, I’m gonna hold up my end.” 

Her darling boyfriend hesitated one more second, cautious, then joined her on the bed – and _cripes_ she was lifted from the move, making her giggle. Once they were settled, though, she gestured for his feet. 

It was _so_ weird, touching and holding his giant, reptilian, two-toed feet, but she pushed past that to do her duty. In fact, it felt like a kind of bonding experience, and she was all too happy to participate in those. She had to pause to brush her hair back every so often, but otherwise she kept to her task. 

When she was done with one foot – which still took a while despite the fact that he only had two toes, cause, holy crap, his nails were _huge_ compared to hers – he still looked a little cautious. 

He commented, “You look kinda weirded out.” 

She shrugged, starting in on his opposite foot with a light, “A little, maybe. I’m gettin’ it, though.” Giving him a smile, she quipped, “Never let it be said that I won’t give you the same things you give me.” 

He looked heartened by that. And he replied, equally light, “Oh, I’d never dare to say that. I know better.” 

“Yeah?” she prompted as she worked. A time-consuming task, this; it took several strokes to cover just one of his nails. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Girl like you’d tear me apart for _suggesting_ it. I know your type.” 

She snorted. As if! “Yeah? What else does my type do?” she asked. 

“Bar dancing,” he answered so quickly she had to pause and wonder if he’d been thinking about that. 

“Seriously?” she laughed. 

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen it a ton,” he agreed, nodding. “Girls like you are violent as hell, love to dance on bars, and low-key have a thing for reptiles.” 

She grinned, wincing, and quipped, “One of these things is not like the others….” 

He chuckled. “Is it the bar dancing?” 

Glancing up, she corrected, “Actually, all those are wrong.” He paused at that, looking intrigued, and she explained, “I’m a total pacifist, I’ve never even been in a bar, and my thing for reptiles is totally high-key.” 

He looked _very_ pleased by that. And, after a moment of thought, she commented, “I just realized that ‘high-key’ rhymes with ‘Mikey’.” 

He laughed, then said, “Bet I could make a song out of that.” 

She was already beating him to it, hurriedly writing lyrics in her head. Thanks to her huge mental compendium of songs, she didn’t have much trouble with it. 

“You’ll never see me in a bar; got a thing for turtles, high-key; not a fighter, won’t ever spar; best boyfriend? His name is Mikey.” 

For a long moment he stared at her, shocked. Then he grinned huge and fell back, squealing. His voice sounded just broken up enough that she thought he was churring, but she couldn’t hear it right then – he was being too noisy. 

Aloud, he yelled, “You–you made a rhyme for me! Ah, oh, girl – you’re too much!” 

His reaction fueled hers, and she had to put the nail polish away to have a little freak-out, herself. For a long moment there was nothing but laughter, shrieks, and insane giggling coming from the room. They were apparently really loud, though, because soon a voice reached them over their noise. 

Raph was shouting with a raising pitch, “Oh, my fucking god, guys, would you _quit it?!”_

At that, Mikey snapped right back, “Stuff it – you’d freak out if Jo did somethin’ like this for you, too!” 

_“Would not!!”_

Waving her arms, Lisa interrupted before Mikey could fire back, “Ohmygod, it’s fine! Leave it! We’re sorry!” she called towards the door. 

Mikey flung his arms in a what-the-fuck manner. “No, we’re not!” he insisted. 

“Mikey,” she hissed. To the door, she yelled, “Won’t happen again!” 

At that, he narrowed his eyes, then got up. He turned on his stereo, put it right in front of the doorway, and cranked it up. 

Lisa’s eyes bugged. Was he seriously doing this? It felt like he was starting a fight – and for _what?_

To her surprise, though, nothing came of it. Maybe Raph left; whatever had happened, soon Mikey just hopped back on the bed – she was tossed with a yelp, having to catch the frame to keep from flipping over – and caroled, “Where were we?” 

She gave a strangled laugh. “Y’all need to quit with the fighting,” she told him. 

He shrugged. “For us, it’s fun.” 

She gave him a doubtful look. 

He lifted his foot, wiggling his toes. “One left,” he prompted. 

She couldn’t help rolling her eyes, though the distraction got her smiling. Selecting another bottle, she commented dryly, “This isn’t gonna work on me _every_ time.” 

“What won’t?” he teased. 

“Distracting me,” she said, narrowing her gaze on him. 

“Ah. Sure it will,” he disagreed, grinning. 

Honestly, he was probably right.


	19. Release

**Rating:** XXX (swearing/sexual situations)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Mikey was having the time of his _life!_ This whole twentieth date thing was amazing – not that the number had any real significance, but rather that _they_ were making it significant. 

After their nail-painting fun, he and Lisa had moved to the TV, playing video games. He even managed to get her to recline _against him,_ sitting just a little lower on the beanbag, between his legs. It felt amazing, having her leaning back against him like this – not to mention it gave him an incredible view. 

Honestly, she was _way_ too attractive to him. He kept getting distracted from watching the screen to instead look at _her_ , from her lovely round cheeks to her arrow-straight nose, her rounded, seven-pierced left ear, and her neck and shoulder and….and her _breasts_. 

He could have drooled. She was a god damn feast for the eyes, constantly teasing and tempting him from his peripheral whenever he was focused on anything else. Worse, she was so relaxed, driving him nuts with the desire to take advantage of her cool disposition to get some macking in. 

That little makeout they’d had earlier had riled the hell out of him. She’d been bolder than she’d ever been before, straddling him like it was nothing. He could still feel her there in his arms, her soft breasts against his plastron and her warm, sweet tongue in his mouth. And – for serious – he was addicted to that tongue stud of hers. He hoped she would never, ever take it out. 

He also hoped he would someday feel it on his dick, but, y’know, one thing at a time. 

“Woo, fatality!” Lisa crowed then, as Sub-Zero ripped out Johnny Cage’s spine.

He grinned, loving how she got into the game – even if he couldn’t quite keep focused on it right then, himself. 

As time went on, his distractions grew worse. He kept trying, of course – he wanted to give her the respect she damn well deserved, keeping focused on the games they were playing – but every time he inhaled, her scent came with it. Every time she shifted, her hair brushed his lips. Every time she breathed, her breasts seemed to swell in size. 

It was an increasingly difficult struggle on his part to keep from getting embarrassingly aroused, and his distractions weren’t helping in that endeavor. He found himself looking down, over her shoulder, to eat up the sight of her smooth, round tits more and more often, and his head steadily dipped lower to feel her soft hair and smooth skin against his lips. 

She, of course, noticed. When she paused, venturing tentatively, “Um, Mikey? What’re you doing…?” he stopped with bothering with pretense. 

Feeling ashamed of himself for falling so deep into lust during what was supposed to be a totally innocent video game session, he confessed, “I….you’re so damn sexy, baby girl….I want you so bad….” 

Her legs drew in at his words, thighs pressing together. “Mikey…?” she murmured. 

She couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it, but he was struggling to keep from getting an erection right then. He couldn’t help a whimper, fighting with himself harder than he’d ever had to before. _Don’t grab her, don’t pop a boner; keep it together, dude!_ he coached himself. 

He took a shaky breath, set his controller aside, and gripped the beanbag with both hands to keep from losing it. But he couldn’t stop himself from running his lips against her skin, steadily losing the battle with himself. She was so close, so warm, so seductive….it’d be so easy to just ease out his tongue and taste her. And, god, he wanted it. 

In fact….if she didn’t tell him to stop, if she didn’t put her foot down, he was afraid there wouldn’t be any stopping it at all. He forced himself to lean back from her, breathing shakily, and focused on her retelling of the sexual assault she’d suffered. _Don’t be Chain,_ he told himself fiercely. 

_Don’t give her a reason to hate you, too._

Then, to his surprise, she sent a hesitant look over her shoulder, asking, “U-um, so….I’m sexy?” 

He groaned. _So_ fucking sexy! Aloud, he answered, “Yeah, like….you have no idea what it’s like, sitting here, you so close….and you smell so good….” He rubbed his face, still fighting with his self-control. “Y-you gotta tell me to stop,” he told her, pleading at this point. “Before I can – before I do anything….” 

It was such a pathetic confession, that. God, why was he so turned on? Why did she smell so good? Why couldn’t he get his head clear? They’d had so much fun earlier, with nary a thread of passion interrupting – so why was he so lost now? 

She wasn’t making it easy on him, he noted. She just ventured, “Do anything…? Like what?” 

_Shit._ If he started talking about it, he was afraid he might not be able to stop himself from acting, too. 

With difficulty, he bit out, “Like….touching you.” The hardest thing, right then, was not looking where his mind had wandered: her tits. God, he so badly wanted to touch them, feel them, discover their texture and give….and he’d _kill_ to get his mouth on them. 

Absolutely slaughter someone just for that privilege? _Done._

Running her hand up and down her arm, she checked, “Touching me, where?” 

He groaned again, having to clench on his inner muscles to stop his dick from shooting out. What the hell was this? Was she teasing him on purpose, just tormenting him for fun? Couldn’t she tell how close he was to losing it? Maybe he needed to give her a good warning, something that could shock her into stopping this game of hers. 

On a growl, he forced out, “Your breasts.” _Don’t look,_ he told himself fiercely. _Don’t look, don’t look, don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook…._

His eyes dropped to the pale skin he could _just_ see over her shoulder, the swell of her mighty mounds. 

He bit his lip so hard he felt a jolt of pain and tasted blood. 

For a moment Lisa didn’t react beyond running her hand over her mouth, hesitating over something – he wanted to yell at her to quit messing with him, to just get up and give him space to cool off. 

Instead, she shifted, pushing herself back to lean against him ( _fuck_ she felt so good, tearing a shudder out of him just from that move alone), and her arm lifted to run along his neck in light, tickling touches. She looked up at him, her wide, innocent blue eyes looking curious but not scared, and she murmured, “Okay….then, do it.” 

_What._

He’s misheard. There was no way she’d just said what he _thought_ she’d said. He knew her too well by now, and one thing he knew was that she was _achingly_ slow regarding sexual things. He’d practically catalogued everything they’d done to date (in his head), and the conclusion was that she barely let him go any farther every time they got hot and heavy. 

Just earlier they’d had one such event, and the change from the last time was when she’d straddled him. He knew, without a doubt, that that was her current limit – breast-fondling was out of the fucking question. 

But the way she was reclined against him, her tits practically begging for him to stare, looking at him so damn fearlessly….it was persuasive. And when she lifted her chin to kiss at his jaw, he shuddered, able to _feel_ his restraint breaking. 

_Fine,_ Mikey thought. _You want it, you got it._

His hands went to her waist first, though, and he felt her give a tiny jolt at the touch that told him she wasn’t as okay with this as she’d said. But he couldn’t resist taking at least a little taste of what she’d offered him, even as he hesitated every step of the way, giving her every chance he could to stop him if she needed it. 

By increments, watching her all the while, his hands eased towards her chest. When he was close enough to feel the cloth of her shirt and she still hadn’t stopped him (in fact, she seemed to be getting aroused, her breathing deepening by the second) he heard himself give a whine. 

She was _seriously_ letting this happen?! 

Good god above, he’d scored gold with her. 

As his hands settled on her breasts, cupping them, she sucked in a breath – but she still wasn’t withdrawing or saying ‘no’. Amazed by – well, everything – he gave a tentative squeeze, learning the way her flesh molded and shifted to his touch. 

The feel was _phenomenal,_ her tits so damn soft and warm, and the _sight_ of them, on top of it? He was in Heaven, utterly elated to finally be able to touch breasts in general – and the fact that these were _Lisa’s?_ He shuddered, his lust ramping so much higher all at once that he _instantly_ lost the battle with his dick. It slid right out, forcing its way between their bodies. 

Lisa jolted with a soft gasp, clearly able to feel it – and surprised by it. And that sound she made split his attention, drawing a portion of his awareness from where his fingers had started stroking her flesh….to her mouth. Head dipping down, he kissed her, drawn in by her lovely, pink lips. 

Her fingers dug in against his neck, and it felt like an encouragement. Shuddering, all too willing to obey, he got to work. It was hard to keep up the kissing at this point, her breasts drawing his attention so strongly, but he managed little pecks and licks every time he felt her lips move. 

And it was _incredible._ The more he touched her, learning the give of her flesh, the more he picked up on what she liked, too. He knew she liked it when he ran his hands over her damn-near-overflowing breasts, bottom to top and back, because she gave an adorable, strangled moan every time. And even though she had on a bra under that top, he quickly discovered where her nipples were through careful squeezing; she sucked in a sharp breath when he found them, nails scratching hard at his neck. 

By now he was feeling drunk as hell – not just because, holy _shit_ this was amazing, but because her scent had….changed. It was driving him nuts, her normal citrus perfume turning sweeter and headier, seducing the ever-loving fuck out of him. He didn’t just _want_ to make love to her then – he _needed_ it. 

He needed to pleasure her, to make her come. His breath hissed between his teeth as he fought to control his impulses, knowing better than to start clawing at her clothes but having a hard time stopping himself from doing it. 

He couldn’t just force that from her, but damn it, he needed _something_. It wasn’t enough to just stroke and squeeze her breasts; he needed some kind of completion – hers or his. At this point he didn’t care which. 

Aloud, he bit out, “Lisa, can I – I need to….” Shit. He didn’t even know what he ‘needed’ – how could he expect to ask her anything, let alone get an answer? Shaking himself, he made a snap decision, bringing a hand down to her jeans. 

He thumbed the button, strangling out, “Can I…?” God, if she said ‘yes’, he was gonna go crazy. 

Then again, if she said ‘no’, he was gonna go crazy. Hah. Funny, right? 

Her gaze snapped down, and he almost jerked his hand back out of reflex. Most of his mind was in agreement – that this was _not_ going to be happening. But a little part held out hope, and it drove him to just keep his hands still for the moment. He even found himself holding his breath, waiting out the silence as Lisa debated with herself, nothing but the beat of his own heart to distract him. 

Then she looked back up at him, and he read the caution and fear in her eyes and knew what the answer was already. Disappointed – and still _achingly_ aroused – he started to withdraw from her. 

She caught his wrist before he could get far. Then, biting her lip, she ventured softly, “Y-yeah….it’s okay.” 

Her gaze wasn’t on him, though, and that, plus the blush on her face, told him that no, it was _not_ okay. And, yet….why else would she say yes? Sure, once upon a time she told him she was willing to sit through whatever he wanted to do regardless of how she felt about it, but since then she’d gotten really good at saying ‘no’. She knew she could turn him down and he wouldn’t blame her for it. 

His lust was clouding his mind right then, making it difficult to puzzle this out, but Mikey _thought_ he understood it – she was fighting, breaking down her own walls….because _she_ wanted more. She wanted him, and she was pushing through her own inhibitions to get him. And _damn_ if that idea didn’t make his dick throb. 

Apparently the twentieth date was also the “Luck and Lust in Spades” date. 

Then, as his mind debated – she might want this, but was she ready for it? Should he really do it? – his hands got to work, too needy to wait for his mind to catch up. Heart pounding from excitement and nerves, he undid her button and zipper; she shifted, wriggling, her hand lifting to his neck once more, fingers trailing along his skin. 

Was that a signal of hers, conscious or otherwise? He treated it like it was, keeping a part of his head focused on her fingers as his hand started to delve inside her panties. 

His dick strained and pulsed as he did so, wanting so badly to go where his hand was. By now he was pretty sure he was going to cum in his shorts any second, but, hell, he didn’t care – he _couldn’t_ , not with Lisa all warm and needy in his grasp. Right then nothing else in the world mattered except giving her pleasure. 

The first thing he felt was straight _heat_. He hadn’t known she could even get this hot, and, _fuck_ , it aroused him all the more. Then he felt a patch of rough curls, a shudder ripping through him as he realized this was her _pubes_ – and she _still_ wasn’t stopping him! Sure, she turned her head away then, but the way her hand gripped him told him it was okay to go on. 

A little further, a little closer, a little more intimate; his mind was more focused than it’d ever been as his fingers crept along her curls, wanting so bad to just _grab_ but forcing himself to go at a slow pace. The last thing he wanted right now was to spook her, to give her a reason to withdraw and stop this. Already her breath was rapid and shallow, her body tense; he could tell she was on the edge. One wrong move and she’d run. 

_Slow, dude,_ he coached himself. _Like, super crazy slow._

Finally, after what felt like hours, his fingers went from curls to soft, hot flesh – soft, hot, and _damp_ flesh, he amended at once with a shiver. He was instantly dumbfounded by the knowledge that he was actually touching a girl’s pussy, thrilled by the tender feel of her, and nearly overwhelmed by her reaction: Lisa sucked in a breath, shoved back against him hard; her back arched and her knees opened up. 

_Fuck. Ing. Damn._

She was _so_ sexy. 

Absently running his mouth along her neck, Mikey started stroking and exploring, his mind so sharp right then he was picking up on _everything_ – every twitch, every sound, every breath, every quiver; he caught it _all._

Considering he was _pretty_ sure his dick was dripping precum right then, that was impressive. 

Her reactions taught him a lot, how to stroke her right and pleasure her. Between one hand circling her clit and the other keeping up his petting of her breasts, she was steadily going nuts, constantly wriggling and shuddering against him. It was easily the hottest, most arousing moment of his life thus far; it took everything in him to keep his hands from stripping her so he could plunge inside her dick-first. 

Her hand on his neck pulled and scratched until it caught on his chain, her fingers immediately grasping at it, and it just added to his lust every time she tugged on it. Her other hand, he noted, was pressed to her mouth, the backs of her fingers against her lips – a habit of hers, he’d discovered. She commonly did that when she was enjoying herself but – he thought – was also ashamed of herself for it. 

That was sexy, too. 

Honestly, Mikey wanted to experiment more, a part of him outright demanding to know every last crevice of her body and, by extension, every possible way to pleasure her, but within minutes he was out of patience. His fingers went from slow and gentle circles to more rapid, firm strokes, and his girlfriend bit out a strangled cry as he did so, arching; he pulled her back against him, holding her close as he went about driving her crazy. 

It didn’t take him long to realize how right Raph’s warnings had been; soon he caught himself nipping at her neck and shoulder, such an intense need going through him that he hadn’t realized he was doing it. Shocked with himself, he forced that to stop, but at least Lisa hadn’t seemed to mind. 

In his mind, Raph’s words came back: _Soothe it with kisses._

Done. 

God, he was being torn in too many different directions now – kissing her neck, fondling her gorgeous breasts, pleasuring her wet pussy, and all while trying to keep himself from yanking down their pants and planting her hips right on his cock. 

Just call him the god of self-denial. 

Lisa was clearly going nuts, too, her breathing growing harsher by the second with little squeaks and cries getting free every so often, and the sound was like her scent right then: irre-fucking-sistible. He so, so, _so_ badly wanted to at least grind against her, relieve some of the pressure in his dick– 

Suddenly she yanked on his chain _hard_ , causing a shock of pain on his part, and bucked against his hand. A shock went through him; was she coming? He made his fingers work faster, intent on finishing her off even if she wasn’t there yet, and the way she shuddered and moaned harshly told him she was _totally_ coming. 

In a kind of reverence, he kept at it, blown away by the knowledge that he’d _done it_ – he’d just made his girlfriend orgasm. 

Hell. Fucking. Yes. 

Her body was crazy sensitive right then, he learned, giving such hard quivers and convulses with every motion on his part. When he gave her nipple a squeeze, she gave a sharp whine, thighs and stomach jolting; when he ran his finger right over the head of her clit, she pitched forward, his arm around her chest the only thing keeping her in place. 

After a few moments of this, though, she untangled her fingers from his chain to grasp his wrist, stopping him. With reluctance he removed his hand from her pants, wishing he could do it all over again. Her breathing was so shaky and harsh right then, her entire body quivering against him, and it was honestly the most satisfying moment of his life. 

….Except for the fact that he just realized he was biting her again, his teeth gently tugging at her. He forced that to stop, for his jaw to let go, making a mental note to figure out how to stop that before next time. 

God – _next time._ He could’ve come in his shorts just from the idea. In fact, he was surprised that he hadn’t yet, now that he could think about it again. Lisa was totally limp against him, arms and legs slumping. She moaned, chewed on her lip, ran her hand over his thigh; it was _so_ god damned sexy. 

A part of him wanted to ask her to give him the same treatment, but he couldn’t interrupt her recovery for that. Besides, he doubted she’d do it; she’d made it pretty obvious by now that she had an easier time accepting affection than giving it. Intimacy would be no different. 

As if in answer to his inner debate, trying to figure out if he should say anything or not, she seemed to snap out of it then, sitting up from him. Her cheeks and ears were red as hell, and he could still see a quiver to her shoulders. It was precious to him, but he held back from saying anything about it, unsure what her mind was like right then. 

“Hey, bae?” he checked, reaching up to brush her hair. Jesus – his dick reacted to even _that,_ pulsing as his fingers ran through her soft hair. 

_Down, boy,_ he told it. He needed to focus right now – namely, he needed to make sure his girl was in an okay place before he could tend to himself. 

She glanced over her shoulder at him, then away again as soon as their eyes met. But the tiny smile he could see at the corner of her mouth told him she was pleased. She ran her hands over her legs, bit her lips, gave a shrug; whatever she was thinking, he was _pretty_ sure it wasn’t negative. 

Good. 

After a moment, he ventured teasingly, “Did I do good?” 

Grinning, she squeaked and pitched forward, hugging her knees. “That’s – _so_ not fair,” she complained. 

Oho, she wanted to talk about _fair,_ did she? Cause he could definitely use some _fair play_ right then. He had to bite his lip on that comment, though, knowing it wouldn’t make this situation any better. Instead, he checked, “Need anything, baby girl?” 

At that, she glanced at him again, surprised. Then, thoughtful, she hummed, looked away, and shrugged, before admitting, “N-no, maybe? I dunno,” she muttered. Then, shifting, she murmured low, “I need to, um….be right back.” 

She got up, heading for his bathroom, and he totally shamelessly watched her rear and legs as she strode off. Her walk was stiff, he noted, and when he realized why, he grinned. He must’ve left her so damn wet – and, thinking about it now, he looked down at his hand. 

Yep – shiny, slick fingers. He couldn’t resist sticking his digits in his mouth, sucking off the remnants of her arousal, and _god damn_ the taste made him shudder. 

Okay, there was no stopping this now – he _needed_ to come. Lisa would probably be a minute or two anyway, and he was pretty sure he’d be done by then. And so, shifting in place, he shoved open his shorts, freed his dick, and went for the tissues that he intentionally kept right near the beanbag for just this reason. 

* * *

_Holy freaking god damn shit–!  
_

Lisa, currently in Mikey’s bathroom with the curtains shut, was having a mini freak-out. Her reasons for coming here had been two-fold: she needed to clean up the freaking _puddle_ he’d made her make in her undies, and she needed a moment to compose herself. 

Her boyfriend had just freaking masturbated her! And it’d been _amazing,_ every touch seeming to be better than the last. How the _hell_ had he done that so well? He’d done it better than _she_ did, had made her come so hard she’d felt her eyes watering from the intensity of it. 

It’d taken everything in her just to keep from _screaming_ , and only because he didn’t have a _freaking door_ and she was too embarrassed to let anyone hear – _that._

Let alone his freaking brothers! 

Shaking herself, she looked over her reflection and saw a stranger looking back at her. The wide, dark eyes, the red cheeks and neck, the little smile she couldn’t wipe off her face – that was the image of a well-pleasured woman. 

Suffice to say she’d never been that woman before. 

Okay, it was official now: Mikey was _incredible._ She couldn’t hardly even piece together how this had happened – earlier she hadn’t even been able to handle him kissing her neck, and just now he’d had a hand down her pants. How insane was _that?_

She was shocked with herself for even letting him touch her breasts, let alone for letting him go to – shit, was it second or third base? Hell, she didn’t know – she’d never even been in this ballpark before, let alone enough times to know the terminology. 

The point is, she’d somehow muscled through her flight response to let him touch and feel her breasts, weirdly turned on from his confessions about his needs and how sexy he found her. Now that she was able to look back, she was beyond surprised and confused. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d been behind her – essentially hidden from her, practically a disembodied voice? 

That made sense, she thought. Whenever she masturbated to thoughts of him, she always had her eyes closed and pictured him as a kind of phantom. His touches just now had felt like a dream, so maybe that had been just what she’d needed to get over her inhibitions. 

But…. _now_ what? She’d have to go back there once she was clean and dry – _Hah, funny, Lisa,_ she chided herself; she’d never be _dry_ again – and undoubtedly he was going to have the biggest freaking boner. Hell, she’d felt it, straining against her back as he’d pleasured her. Every so often it gave a pulse, and each time it’d given her a weird, naughty thrill. 

It’d been so damn sexy…. 

Biting her lip, she considered her next move. Would he ask her to return the favor? She wanted to, but….but having to face him, having to handle a dick when she’d never so much as touched one before….it was scary. 

What if she was bad at it? What if she did something wrong and hurt him? Sure, he was turned on by her, but that didn’t mean she could successfully pleasure him. She wasn’t even sure she could _look_ at it, let alone do enough to make him come. 

But….and this was weirdly difficult to admit….she wanted to _try_. The idea gave her little butterflies, wanting to do her duty as his girlfriend and give him what he’d given her. After all, she’d said those words not too long ago: 

_Never let it be said I won’t give you the same things you give me._

She wanted to uphold that, and even more so, the idea was kind of sexy. The question now was to how approach this. 

Her best idea? _Treat it like a one-time deal._ Like this was the one and only time she’d ever give him a handsy. Thinking of it like that, pretending that afterwards they’d just forget about it, made it easy to settle her nerves. 

She could _totally_ do this. 

Once she was cleaned up, she took a steadying breath, pulled the curtain aside – 

He was masturbating. 

She froze, gaze stuck on the picture he made there: reclined, chin up, eyes closed, a hand on his – hang on – was that – that was _not_ a normal dick, she concluded, shocked by the sight of the reverse-angled purple _thing_ in his grasp. 

It took him a full second to snap to awareness, looking her way, and then a kind of stand-off occurred. Boyfriend against girlfriend, with a purple dick between them, a long moment passed as they just stared at one another, neither willing to move. 

_You said you were gonna do this,_ she told herself. _So what if his dick’s weird?_ She should’ve guessed this ahead of time, honestly; she felt kind of stupid for imagining he would have a human penis this whole time. And, now that she was shaking herself out of stun, she reminded herself of her decision. 

 _Just pretend it’s a one-time deal._

She could do that. 

Maybe. 

Taking a breath to calm her nerves, she made good on that, brushing back her hair and awkwardly venturing, “S-so, um….was gonna ask if you wanted a hand…?” Her voice went from _awkward_ to _who the heck is this nerd_ as she spoke, making her cringe from how ridiculously mousy she sounded. 

And Mikey _whined,_ giving her a tentative grin. “Y-yeah, I’d love a hand,” he said, sounding breathless. 

Okay, then, time to be a big girl. And, Lisa discovered, trying not to _look_ awkward was even harder than not sounding it; knowing his eyes were on her made her stride weird as hell, kind of wobbling with each step, her eyes glued to the floor as she went. She spared a glance at the doorway as she passed it, too, worried about whether or not someone was right on the other side, eavesdropping – she’d never know either way. 

Then, reaching the beanbag, she knelt down, stomach knotting from nerves. How, exactly, did she do this? Her knee tapped, hands hovering as she hesitated over what to do. Sure, she’d seen videos of this act before, but she’d never found it appealing enough to pay attention – and she had no idea if the tactics she’d seen would even work on her turtle boyfriend’s particular wang. 

Mikey was frozen solid, she saw, watching her with anticipation. He looked like he was going to leap up from his seat any second – though what he would do after that, she had no clue. 

Tentative, she ventured, blushing harder by the second, “U-um….what do I…?”

“Touch me,” he hurried out, voice tight from need. 

Good _lord_  that was a seductive sound. Spurred on by that desperate tone, she reached out – pausing in surprise when his cock _pulsed_  as she neared it – and gave it the first touch, learning its texture. 

Her first thought? It was _hot_ , and it felt as slick as it looked. Her fingertips glided up and down the hard muscle, a little intimidated by her task – and a little power-drunk by it, too. Just giving a firm trail from base to tip had her boyfriend shuddering, voice squeaking. 

Holy crap. That intense reaction, just from a touch? Curious and not a little desperate, herself, she brought both hands to the violet shaft, gripping it softly. 

Mikey sucked in a sharp breath, hips shifting to thrust it further into her fists. She gave it a stroke, squeezing a little as she went towards the tip, now watching him to catch every little movement on his part. 

He _bucked_ , lifting off the seat to shove his dick right through her hands. 

Good. _Lord._  

Now getting the idea that he was crazy sensitive and _hella_  needy, she got to work, using both hands to pump him. He didn’t have a great deal of length, she learned, both of her hands enough to hold most of him, but his girth was impressive – she couldn’t close her fingers without squeezing him. 

Which, she discovered, he _really_  liked, so she did it a lot – every time she went up, her hands cinched around him to squeeze at the head. And, now that she was actively looking, she found his penis….interesting, the head a weird reversal of the average human equivalent. And the shape was practically an upside-down heart, surprising and pleasing her. 

Now that she was getting used to it, it was kind of….cute. Granted, this act was getting sexier by the second, Mikey’s strangled moans and squeaks and involuntary thrusts pretty damn arousing, but the dick itself was weirdly adorable. 

Then, noting how he’d gone totally rigid all at once, she suddenly realized he was about to cum. Her mind panicked, wondering what she should do now (aside from pump him faster, that is); recalling how the women in porn videos always took it on the face or opened their mouths, Lisa opted for the latter. Mouth opening, she prepared herself to get a slathering of cum. 

Mikey _choked_  on a breath, then hurriedly covered his erection with a handful of tissues. Surprised, she stopped her actions, unsure what to do; biting out a groan, he wrapped his free hand around hers to make her keep pumping at him. 

It clicked. He wanted to cum into the tissues – well, okay, then. She egged him on with what little she’d learned so far, squeezing him in the way he seemed to like and going at the pace he’d set with his own motions. 

And, finally, he came; he churred loudly – louder than she’d ever heard before, though granted she could still only _barely_  hear it, especially over the radio still pumping out tunes – and arched, bucking at the air. His dick pulsed and pulsed and _pulsed_ in her grasp, punctuated with a strangled kind of squeal, like he was trying to bite back the sound but couldn’t quite manage it. 

His bucks slowed and gentled after the first few, and he relaxed back into the beanbag with a low groan when they tapered off. At first she didn’t know what to do next; then, feeling something slimy and warm on her hand, she glanced down and noticed he hadn’t quite caught _all_  of his semen. Some of it had escaped, thick and milky and sliding down his cock to settle on her hand. 

She froze. What was she supposed to do _now?_  Biting her lip, she released him, withdrawing her hands and strangely fascinated with the cum on her skin. It was so….so _warm,_  she thought, and thick to the point of forming a large, round dome. Was that _normal?_  For guys in general or just Mikey’s breed of mutant? Should she ask?

God, she was so damn ignorant about these things…. 

Putting all that aside, she refocused on Mikey – and in another moment she caught his penis starting to _recede_  in a way she didn’t understand, slipping back into his shorts. Okay, what the heck was _that?_  Was _that_  normal? Damn it, she hadn’t watched nearly enough porn, clearly; she couldn’t tell what was a ‘guy’ thing and what was a ‘turtle’ thing. 

Swallowing, opting to ignore literally everything, she murmured, “S-so….did I do good?” 

He gave a sharp laugh, then speared her with a look so intense and hot it made her blush come surging back to life. 

He replied low, “You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby girl.” 

For once, the swear didn’t make her cringe – instead, it made her grin, glancing away at the ground, feeling weirdly thrilled….almost like she was _proud_  of herself. 

How bizarre. 

As she absently brushed her hair back, she said quietly, “I-I don’t know about _that_ ….” 

He leaned forward then, grasping her chin and lifting her face back up. His hard stare seized her, holding her prisoner, as he told her firmly, “You. Are. _Fucking._  Perfect.” 

Well….gee, who was she to argue with that? As her nerves acted up, making her look away, she agreed softly, “Only for you, baby boy.” 

He grinned, clearly pleased with that answer. 


	20. Raucous Morning

**Rating:** R (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

It was _so_  weird after that tryst – namely because Mikey wouldn’t let it _get_ weird. It drove Lisa nuts, in a way; she kept feeling a need to freak the freak out, but he kept distracting her. 

The sweet _jerk._

At first he just hefted her into his lap and kissed her half to death (which, let’s be honest, she’d _loved_ ). Then they made sure to clean up – she washed her hands, he tossed the used tissues – and as soon as that was done he promptly spun her into his arms and kissed her half to death _again_. 

Thanks to that Lisa was feeling lightheaded, and she had to bite back moans every time she so much as thought about her boyfriend, let alone _looked_  at him.  They’d moved back to the beanbag, with her now situated on his thigh (he’d freaking _begged_  her to sit there, wanting her as close as possible, and she just couldn’t say no to him when he said it like that), and were back to playing video games. 

 _Cyborg Justice_ for the Sega Genesis _._  She’d never played it before so she coming into it blind, but Mikey had, and he quickly showed her the ropes. 

They spent a long time utilizing the old game’s habit of allowing friendly fire to bash each other’s avatars, and it resulted in some incredible hysterics. More than once they tore each other’s arms off and proceeded through the level with only one arm between them. 

It was amazing. She instantly loved this game. 

After a good hour of that, when it was time to swap to something else – Mikey was in the process of doing so, crouched in front of the consoles – Lisa decided to ask him something that’d been bothering her. 

“Hey, bee?”

Amused, he glanced up at her. “Bee?” he checked. 

She shrugged. “Bae, bee – just going with the theme,” she teased. 

He chuckled. “Yeah, bye?” he returned, grinning. 

Pleased, she smiled – then sobered, becoming more serious. “So, earlier….um….why did you stop me?” she asked, thinking of how he’d turned down her admittedly panic-driven decision to let him cum in her mouth. 

Confused, he replied, “Stop you from what? When’d I stop you?” 

Blushing now, she glanced away, clarifying, “Um, when….you were gonna cum….I was gonna, um….” She trailed off with a mutter, not sure how to finish that aloud. She touched her lips, but from staring at the floor she didn’t know if Mikey had seen it. 

He seemed to think back on it – then, catching on, he gave a nervous laugh. “Right. That. Well, actually,” he ventured, wincing, “I never told you this, but, um….you know my mutagen?” 

Utterly lost, she asked, “Uh, yeah? What about it?” And how was it relevant? 

Looking a tad bit ashamed, he explained, “Well, it, uh….can….transfer. From me….to, uh….to you.” 

….Through his _cum?_  Baffled, she said, “So, like, I just need to not….swallow….t-that stuff?” 

He winced again, harder than before, and confessed, “Yeah, about that….according to Donnie, you’re already getting it….” When she blinked, uncomprehending, he pointed at his mouth and kissed the air. 

Light bulb. 

 _Oh….my god._  She was getting mutagen from him by _kissing?_  A little shocked, she checked, “Okay, so, like….how much do I get? I mean, from a kiss?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet, and without context for how much mutagen it took to do any mutating, she didn’t think his answer would have any impact anyway, but she still wanted to know. 

“Uh….” he began, scratching at his head as he thought. “I dunno, really,” he said with a dry laugh. “Donnie says it’s, like….practically nothing. From a kiss. But he also says there’s a lot more of it in cum, so, y’know, we should avoid that. And most of it’s in my blood anyway, so if you never, like….drink my blood….it shouldn’t ever really do anything. I mean it barely did anything for Jo so far,” he added, thoughtful. 

Shocked even worse by that last sentence, Lisa blurted, “Wait – Jo’s got mutagen?” 

Surprised, he answered, “Well, yeah. From Raph. They’re crazy sexual. They shag, like, all the time. Like rabbits,” he added, his expression a kind of envious pout.  

Normally – and she freely admitted this – Lisa would’ve immediately shut out what he just said and file it away under  _never recall again._  But by now she was dealing with so much new information that his comments had no impact; she brushed it off to focus on the unspoken part of his statement. 

Jocelyn was full of mutagen, apparently. From having sex. With Raphael. 

A measure of concern rose up, Lisa worried over what kind of reactions her friend was having thanks to this transfer. She asked, “Well….is she okay? Like, is it doing anything?” 

“Not really,” he answered with a shrug. “Donnie says the mutagen can’t really do anything to humans anyway. For Jo, it just made her a little tougher, and she heals a little faster than normal. She just….she doesn’t get tired as much. Donnie gives her a blood test every month,” he told Lisa, “to keep track of whatever changes she goes through. So far? Nothin’.” 

Well, then, that was good, right? She ventured, “So, there’s nothing to worry about, then? It’s all good?” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” he agreed. Then, a little awkward, he said, “I just wanted to, y’know, let you know about it first. Wasn’t time to talk about it before. I didn’t wanna give you a bunch’a my mutagen unless you were cool with it,” he told her. 

Oh. 

…. _Aww._  That was so thoughtful! He’d denied doing something he’d probably _really_  wanted because it could’ve had effects he didn’t know she’d be okay with. What a sweetie! 

Grinning now, she offered with a shrug, “Well, if it doesn’t do anything except make people stronger and whatever, then I don’t care. It’s fine,” she assured him. “I don’t mind.” 

Mikey glanced down with a wide smile, pleased; then, catching her gaze, he said, “Okay, good. I was worried,” he admitted. “When Jo found out she kinda panicked. I didn’t want you freaking out, too.” Perking up again, he declared, “I shoulda known better. You’re _way_  cooler than Jo.” 

The compliment took her by surprise, making her look away and cover her mouth. But after a moment she commented quietly, “A-anyway, I guess you can see it, like….it’s a part of you, y’know? I wouldn’t freak over, like, being that close to you.” And, in a sense, that’s what  _his_  mutagen running through _her_  veins was: a kind of unique bond, something exclusive to Mikey, his brothers, and his father.  

Why would that distress her? She lo– er, she really liked him. A lot. Probably more than she should. To be honest, she _should_ like him less than she did and she knew it; it would be safer for her tender heart that way. 

But right then she didn’t care one whit about safety. 

Mikey was utterly frozen for one whole second. Then, all at once, he _exploded_ , giving a cheer as he all but launched off the ground to tackle her into the beanbag. Seeing him coming – and having anticipated that this would happen – she pivoted backwards, and between that and the gentle way he held her it was just a fun, cute move. No hard knocks or bruising. 

She laughed as he started nuzzling and kissing her, her cheek and neck swamped with wet, affectionate smooches. It both tickled and delighted her, making her giggle like mad and twitch _constantly_. And he quickly went from the messy kissing to rubbing his face on her shoulder, and she could hear him giving a low, steady stream of churrs. 

She’d made him happy. Feeling happy, herself, she ducked her head down a bit to bring their foreheads together, her hands lifting to stroke along his neck. The emotion of the moment shifted then, going from excited delight to quiet, intimate affection. 

Lisa wasn’t sure she knew how to handle a heavy feeling like this; a part of her wanted to crack a joke to end it before it get even more serious. But she also really liked this little moment, able to _feel_  their bond strengthening as if it were a physical sensation. 

Then Mikey murmured, “I really….really love you, Lisa.” 

She could have screamed, that sentence hit her so hard. Her heart seemed to clench, both painful and sweet, and she heard herself give a whine as she curled up on herself, both feeling like shrieking and disappearing into the brickwork. 

Mousy as hell, she murmured, “You, um….you’re….something else…. _boh.”_  

He snorted. “Well, duh. I’m one of a kind,  _boo.”_  

She grinned, amused, thinking that he was totally right. 

At first she thought they were done playing around then, that they’d go back to enjoying their time with a controller in each pair of hands. Instead, he angled his head and kissed her – a sweet, weirdly intense thing that made her heart beat faster. It was different from their frenzied make-outs earlier, different from the passion that had been following them before. 

This was – dare she even think it – _loving._  

She could _not_ handle this much emotion. Breaking the kiss, she hurriedly quipped, “Smash Bros? I feel like kicking your butt.”

He smirked. “Get ready to get wrecked, baby girl,” he warned, withdrawing to set up the game.

At once, she was both relieved to have space to herself and missing his warmth. _Darn mixed emotions,_ she thought, annoyed. Aloud, she replied, “Oh, yeah? ‘Bout to show you the smashing power of Yoshi. Again.”

He muttered something then, and she _thought_  she heard him say, “ _Kill_ to get smashed by you….” 

Oh, god, she hadn’t even realized the double entendre of that phrase. Pretending she hadn’t heard, she ventured, “What was that…?”

As the game loaded up, he got up, clarifying, “I said, ‘’Bout to get smashed by Pichu.’ Figure I might as well make it a battle of mascots,” he explained as he took his seat again. 

Nice cover, she thought, scooting aside for him. The activeness of this game meant they couldn’t cuddle as they played, and that was honestly a little sad, but she didn’t mind. Being so close that they kept elbowing each other was good, too. 

Besides, it gave her time to chill out and get her head back together again. 

* * *

 _Success!_  

This whole date was a crazy success, one victory after another, and it got Mikey’s spirits absolutely _soaring_. He felt like so much had happened – granted, he always felt that way; being with Lisa left him feeling constantly like he’d just had the best day of his life – and it was _amazing_. That talk they’d had, drudging up the bones of her broken self-confidence only to leave them cleaned and properly set, followed by the two of them _masturbating one another._

It’d been so incredible, he was on the verge of popping another boner just thinking about it. But could he really be blamed for that, if he did? Recalling the way she’d let him stroke and pet her sexy body, the way she’d come for him – and then the way she pleasured _him_  in turn? 

He’d have swooned, but right then a ‘swoon’ was a pitifully weak reaction. ‘Faint’ would work better. 

 _Faint._  

He just wished his head had been a bit clearer during the moment – he had a lot more he wanted to do, and the passionate way she’d lost it told him she just might have let him. Number one on that list? 

Getting his mouth on her naked breasts. 

He hadn’t even _felt_  them, not really; with her tops on the only thing he’d picked up on was the location of her nipples and how soft, how _giving_  they were. He hadn’t felt the skin, the warmth – he hadn’t been able to explore every nook and cranny, seeking out the most sensitive places. 

But although the moment had ended, he thought….maybe she’d let him go that tiny bit further. It was worth a shot, he thought. 

“Hey, bae?” he asked. 

She tisked. “Missed opportunity,” she commented. When he just stared at her, confused, she explained, “Cae – our theme?” 

He snorted. He’d forgotten about that. “Sorry – hey, cae?” he corrected. 

Chuckling, she asked, “Yeah, Mikey?” 

….It was at this point he realized he hadn’t thought about _how_  he was going to ask this. Deciding to just come right out and say it – she seemed to like it better when he said things straight out, anyway – he asked, “D’you mind….I mean, if you’re okay with it….can I see your breasts? And….and I wanna kiss ‘em,” he finished. 

All at once, her face lit aflame. She stared at him, eyes wide, for a full ten seconds before responding – by jolting out of the seat and to her feet. Hands shaking, she paced, blurting, “That’s – I-I mean, sure, that’s fine to ask, and we _did_  just….do stuff….b-but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for _everything!”_  

Knowing she was just going to keep ranting if he let her, Mikey intercepted her pacing to stop her. Catching her in his arms, he cut off her frantic “ _I like you and whatever and I wanna be good but I can’t just”_  with a swift kiss. 

She stopped dead, physically stilling to accept the kiss. By now he knew there was no way she was going to let him go to town on her breasts, so he hurriedly made a joke to settle her nerves. _Distract me,_  she’d asked him before; now he did so whenever she was overwhelmed without needing the prompt. 

“Knock knock,” he said as he withdrew. 

Surprised, she blinked. “Uh, who’s there?” 

“A little old lady.” 

“A little old lady who?” 

“Hey, I didn’t know you could yodel!” 

She snorted. Then she said, “Knock knock.” 

“Who’s there?”

“Mikey.” 

Intrigued, he checked, “Mikey who?” 

“My key doesn’t work, lemme in!” 

He chortled, amused. “I’m usin’ that,” he told her. 

“No can do. It’s copyrighted,” she shot back. 

“What, my name?” he checked, smirking. 

“Nickname,” she corrected, “and yes.” 

“Darn. What’m I supposed to call myself, then?” he asked, wondering if she even remembered his full name. 

“Mickey,” she answered easily, grinning wide. 

 _Mickey?_  “Uh, just Mickey?” he checked, doubtful. 

She nodded. “I mean we pronounce your name _Michael_ angelo but it’s Italian and it’s supposed to be _Michel_ angelo, right? So your nickname shouldn’t be Mikey, but Mickey.” 

That….was an excellent point. And thanks to that, a song popped into his head; he blurted in sing-song, “Oh, Mickey, you’re so fine, you’re so fine–”

“–you blow my mind, hey Mickey!” she sang with him. “Hey, hey, hey, Mickey!” 

That started a jam session, complete with dancing, and while he knew better than to say either of them were _good_  singers, he still enjoyed the hell out of it. One song blended into the next and before he knew it, it was dinnertime. Donnie interrupted an enthusiastic rendition of _I Want It That Way_  to inform the couple that Jo was working late so Mikey would have to handle dinner himself. 

As soon as Donnie had the curtain brushed aside, Mikey noted, Lisa had her back turned to him, arms firmly crossed over her chest. Okay, then – she wanted no one but Mikey to see her true size. 

He was _fine_  with that. 

To Lisa, he commented with a grin, “I got the perfect thing. You’ll love it,” referring to dinner. Taking her hand, he started off. 

Intrigued, she followed him (after pausing to put on her hoodie), checking, “Oh, yeah?” 

 _Yep!_  And he just knew she was going to love it. Over the last few weeks he’d tried that mac-and-cheese-and-potatoes recipe over and over again, to the point where his brothers were more than tired of it, but he was certain he’d perfected it so what did _that_  matter? He’d even found out the right portion control to add in other vegetables – peas, carrots and celery, to be exact – and he couldn’t wait to surprise Lisa with the full meal. 

This time, though, he made a snap decision and served mashed potatoes instead of chopped. He let his brothers deal with their meals as they liked, but for Lisa he served the mix on top of a serving of the potatoes, basically turning it into a bowl for the heartier meal. 

And Lisa _loved_  it. She was even amused-slash-impressed by the presentation, which was a plus in his book. 

His brothers were less than pleased, though, and Raph actually groaned and reheated last night’s leftovers instead. Whatever; the point was _she_  liked it, and to be honest, right then Mikey didn’t care the least bit about what his brothers thought. 

In short: fuck ‘em. 

Lisa was happy. He couldn’t have asked for more. But he did notice, as they shared their meal, that his father looked pleased as well, smiling as he served himself. Well, Mikey thought, Dad approves, too. That clearly meant everything was right in the world. 

He expected Lisa would leave after dinner – that was the usual series of events – but this time she said “fuck it” (paraphrased; she’d never swear like that and he knew it) and decided that since tomorrow was also part of her weekend, she’d stay – at least for a little while longer. 

More than a little elated, Mikey happily moved to the living room with her, opting to watch some movies and chat. His brothers gave the lovebirds a _wide_  berth, practically disappearing so they wouldn’t “catch cooties” as Raph put it. 

Hypocrite, Mikey thought. Raph was _constantly_  hounding Jo’s steps and putting on brazen affectionate displays; he had _no_  place to talk. 

The couple idly chatted as they went through the full Pirates of the Caribbean series one by one, reclined together on the couch. Unfortunately, though, Lisa didn’t make it halfway through At World’s End, drifting off as she laid against him. 

It was sad, in a way – but also delightful. Lisa napping on him thrilled the hell out of Mikey, and it took some damn strong willpower to keep from squealing and aww’ing and squeezing her tight. Instead, he just pet her hair and along her arms, totally enamored with how adorable she looked asleep. 

Not to mention the _feeling_  of having her sleeping _on top of him!_  Ugh, it was entirely too precious. He wanted to hug her tight and roll around, whining and churring all the while. He wanted to call his brothers over to partake in this most sacred of moments. And, totally unable to resist, he withdrew his phone from his pocket to take a selfie with her. 

He couldn’t send it to her for obvious reasons, but he was _so_  going to show this to her later. 

And she was so. Damn. C _ute!_ He could have died, she was so adorable. 

Now that she’d drifted off, though, he found himself trapped. He couldn’t get up without waking her up, but she’d get uncomfortable if she slept here. He’d rather put her in his bed, let her sleep there. On the other hand, maybe he should just wake her up and take her home? Hell, Raph had done that with Jo the first time she’d come to visit, just carrying her home after she fell asleep. 

Mikey just didn’t know what to do. He knew what he _wanted_  to do – put her in bed – but he was worried that acting so selfishly would irritate her. He didn’t want her to wake up, discover he’d put her in his bed, and get mad at him for it. 

He didn’t think she’d be angry about that, really; he thought she’d be a little nervous but otherwise heartened, in fact. But the fact that he didn’t _know_  is what worried him. Maybe he should just shake her awake and ask her? 

Ugh, he hated this debate. Wake her up, don’t wake her up; ask her what to do, just let her sleep; take her home, leave her to sleep here…. 

How did anyone make any decisions about their girlfriends _ever?!_ Cripes…. 

The sound from the TV didn’t bother her, he noticed. Was she a heavy sleeper? It’d make sense – growing up crammed in a room with two others would probably condition a person to learn to ignore disturbances. Mikey had certainly gone that way; for about sixteen years straight, he and his brothers didn’t have individual rooms. They slept nearby one another – as kids, before their training had begun, they’d slept in a pile. 

It’d taught all of them to ignore sounds and even stray kicks. Splinter had to undo that and _teach_  them how to wake up in a snap, and since they’d separated into taking their own rooms, Mikey had gone back to sleeping deeply. If not for his years of training, at this point he wouldn’t ever get out of bed without being physically thrown. 

It made him wonder if Lisa was the same. If he picked her up and carried her to bed, would she even react? Maybe, maybe not; as the movie played on and his inner debate continued to rage, he was steadily leaning towards taking her there. 

And, yes, part of the reason why was because he so badly wanted to join her there and just cuddle her all night. 

At first, he waited. He just waited, watching her, letting the movie play out. By the time the epilogue began, he’d made his decision. Moving carefully, trying not to disturb her, he turned off the entertainment system, gathered her up in his arms, and strode from the room. 

The Lair was pretty quiet by then. Mikey found, to his surprise, that his brothers had gone out on patrol but had opted to leave him behind and let him have his date. They might be absolute jerks, he mused, smiling, but they were considerate jerks. 

Usually. 

It was past midnight now, and as he laid Lisa in his bed – carefully; the waterbed did a _lot_  of sloshing, after all – her phone rang. Already figuring it would be her brother, Mikey retrieved her phone to answer it. 

He knew he probably shouldn’t, that Lisa would get pretty pissed with him for this, but he also wasn’t seeing another option. Sam needed to know she was okay, and Mikey should at least have a talk with him at some point anyway. 

He gave the screen a swipe to connect the call, answering, “Hello.” 

There was a beat of total silence; then, surprised, “Uh, hello?” 

Mikey could imagine Sam looking at the phone in confusion, checking to see if he’d called the right contact. “Sam?” Mikey asked. 

Another pause. Now clearly suspicious, Sam bit out, “Who is this? Where’s Lisa?” 

“She fell asleep,” Mikey told him. “This is Mikey. Sup, dude?” 

Sam sputtered on the other line, then snapped, “Asleep? Wake her up! Put her on right now!” 

“Uh, no,” Mikey retorted with a dry laugh. “I’m not wakin’ her up now, have you seen the time?” 

“Yeah, and she was supposed to be back by now, so wake her up and send her home!” Sam blurted. 

“No can do,” Mikey shot back, using Lisa’s own words. “Why don’t we talk about something else? D’you like hip hop?” 

Sam seemed to be getting more aggravated by the second. He bit out, “I don’t wanna talk to you. I wanna talk to my sister.” 

“And she’s asleep, we’ve established this,” Mikey told him smartly. “Lisa says you’re a carpenter, have you ever, like, made a skateboard ramp? Half-pipe?” 

Sam  _growled._  “No, and I don’t want to. Just put my sister on the damn phone!” 

“Whoa, watch your language, dude, you were raised in a Catholic house.” 

“Lisa tell you that?” 

“Yep.” 

“Well, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Hey, whoa, you kiss your sister with that mouth?” 

Hissing low, Sam warned, “I swear to god, you bastard, if you ever hurt my sister–”

Mikey had to cut him off there, snipping, “You’ll cut off my relevant male anatomy?” 

“For starters.” 

“Got it. But lemme just ease your mind about that,” Mikey told him. “If I ever hurt her, you’ll have to get in line behind me. I know she’s had a shitshow of a life so far, and you’re the big bro and you protect her – it’s your job, your duty, your privilege and pleasure, blah blah blah. It’s hard to let go of the need to keep her safe.” 

As he spoke, he turned his gaze to his sleeping girlfriend – yep, still konked out, he noted. And looking at her while talking about her….it felt so sweet, so precious. His heart swelled in his chest. 

“But, Sam….” He paused, then confessed, “I’m in love with her. I’d never–”

Sam inhaled a sharp, audible breath, then growled out, “Don’t you fucking lie to me.” 

….He thought Mikey was _lying?_  “Dude, what? Why you think I’m lying?” 

Subdued, Sam replied quietly, “They always lie.” 

Oh. Well, apparently the big brother had dealt with harassers before who’d claimed to be in love. Honestly, that pissed off Mikey even worse – had _Chain_  done that? Tried to justify terrifying and harming Lisa by saying he was in love?

Now Mikey _really_  wanted to hunt him down and break his arm. And, now that he had a measure of context, he understand Raph’s rage over Jocelyn’s attack much more clearly. He was starting to feel _bad_  for keeping Raph from killing the asshole. 

Aloud, he asked, “Does it sound like _I’m_  lying?” 

Sam was silent for a long moment. Then he declared, “Look, I get you’re trying to make nice, and Lisa seems really serious about you. But I am _not_  going to just trust you. And my warning stands – you hurt her, for any reason, and I’ll tear you to pieces.” 

That _almost_  made Mikey retort,  _I’d like to see you try._  Instead, he replied, “Honestly, dude, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Another pause stretched out between them before Sam said, “Good.” 

That was it? Biting back a chuckle, Mikey asked, “So, can I let her sleep?” 

That seemed to rile Sam all over again. He bit out, “That depends, what’d you do to exhaust her?” 

“Played video games and watched a movie marathon,” Mikey answered easily. It didn’t occur to him that Sam had been alluding to something sexual – well, not immediately. Once it came to mind, though, Mikey found himself grinning. 

He’d enjoyed the _hell_ out of their afternoon together. Just recalling it got his heart to flutter and his dick to throb. 

Doubtful, Sam checked, “Seriously?” 

“Yep,” Mikey agreed. “We painted each other’s nails, beat each other up in Mortal Kombat, and watched the first three Pirates of the Caribbean. It was great.” 

Incredulous now, Sam blurted,  _“Seriously?”_

 _“Seriously,”_  Mikey confirmed. Then he admitted, “Usually this’s where I make jokes, but you’re right – I wanna make nice. Things go right, I might be calling you ‘bro’ at some point.”

“Too far, man.” 

“Sorry, bro.” 

Sam laughed – then, startled, he snapped, “No – that wasn’t funny!” 

Too late. Mikey was already grinning, pleased with himself. He’d made Lisa’s brother laugh! _Score!_  Now all he had to do was similarly impress her mother and grandparents and he was in the long run. 

Easy Peasy. 

* * *

Lisa stirred awake feeling different from usual. Her head was analyzing the weird dream she’d had – something involving Lego-people in an Indiana Jones-type adventure, except the vehicles were sometimes dinosaurs and Indiana Jones was Hilary Clinton and honestly none of it made any sense anymore – as she sat up, stretched, and fumbled for her bearings. 

She felt….good. Better than usual, she thought, which was odd because her single-size bed never had her waking up feeling _good_  –

She wasn’t in her room. This wasn’t her bed. And _that_  wasn’t a pillow – that was Mikey’s arm. 

She’d slept in Mikey’s waterbed. Which meant she _hadn’t gone home._  

A kind of pleased thrill kept trying to assert itself, but against a rising sense of embarrassment and panic, it couldn’t get a foothold. She all but scrambled to get out of bed, having to climb over Mikey’s legs to accomplish the task, and was on her feet, looking for her phone, when he roused. 

“Angelcakes?” he muttered, wiping at his eye as he moved to sit up. 

Where the _heck_  was her phone?! She’d already checked her hoodie and pants pockets, and now she was checking the shelves in case she’d put it aside somewhere. 

Absolutely frantic, she blurted, “Where’s my phone? I can’t find it!” 

Confused but nonetheless considerate, he snagged it off the headboard and handed it to her. It’d been plugged into an outlet, she realized then – how sweet! She gave him a kiss on the cheek in thanks, then opened her call log. 

“What’s up?” Mikey asked, smirking from the kiss. He slid an arm around her waist, ducking his head a bit to catch her gaze. If she weren’t so panicked right then, she’d probably have felt little, nervous butterflies from the way he so casually held her like that. 

_Crap!_  She’d missed a call from Sam last night – except, wait. The call had been answered? What?? 

Looking up, she turned the phone around and demanded, “Did Sam call me last night?” 

Her boyfriend glanced at the phone and back, confirming with a nod, “Yeah. You were out, so I answered it. We chatted.” 

Oh. God. _No._  

“Jesus,” she breathed, feeling as if her world was about to come tumbling down. “What’d he say?” 

“Uh….” Mikey started, hesitant. “Well, he would’ve disappointed your grandparents,” he told her, “but he just wanted to know you were okay. Which you were,” he reminded her. 

She gave a strangled laugh. “A-and what’d _you_  say?” 

“The truth,” he told her. “We just played around, watched P-O-T-C, and I may have told him we adopted a velociraptor.” 

The joke did nothing to calm her nerves. There was no way, absolutely _no way,_  that the conversation ended well. She asked, concerned, “And? Does he hate you? He’s always hated everyone,” she added quietly. 

“He always had a reason to,” Mikey soothed her, starting to rub her back. “But, no, he doesn’t hate me. I promised him I’d never hurt you, and if I did anyway, he wouldn’t have to eviscerate me cause I’d do it myself. Then I turned on the Mikey charm,” he told her with a wink, “and now we’re best buds.” 

Hah! As if. She demanded, “Funny, Mikey – now what really happened?” 

He shrugged. “Cracked a couple jokes, made him laugh, said goodbye. He doesn’t hate me,” he reiterated. “You can chill.” 

Okay, _maybe_  it wasn’t a total disaster, then. Nodding to herself, she considered the situation ahead of her, commenting aloud, “Okay, that’s good, I guess. Now all I gotta do is get home and talk to him. Build off the good foundation. No problem, right?” 

“No problem,” Mikey agreed. “My advice? Lead with a good opener – like, ‘Hey, bro, swiggity swiggity swah, sleep like a Kardashian? Good, great, bad-ass, bodacious–’ Maybe don’t add that last part,” he cut himself off. 

She chuckled. “I’ll edit it as I go,” she assured him. 

“Great. And impress how drop-dead sexy I am,” he added, pulling her in closer. He gave a sweet ‘good morning’ kind of kiss – which was kind of funny considering his flirty comment. 

As she withdrew from the kiss, she commented, “I think we both need to brush our teeth.” 

“Yeah, good call,” he agreed. 

As they headed to the sink, though, she glanced down and finally realized she wasn’t wearing her hoodie. It should’ve occurred to her while she was holding the damn thing, but at the time she’d been too distracted to connect the dots. 

Recalling that she’d had it on during the marathon, she checked, “Did you take off my hoodie?” 

“Huh? Yeah,” her boyfriend replied. “It can get pretty hot in here with the curtain and everything. Traps heat. I figured you’d be more comfortable without it.” 

Touched, she murmured, “Good call.” She didn’t even feel like she’d sweat at all despite the warmth of the room; maybe the cold bed had helped? And, now that she was actively thinking about how she’d woken up, it hit her that she she’d been cuddled up tight to Mikey. He’d had an arm around her, the other folded under her head, and she’d a had a leg over his. 

Practically intimately tangled. 

By the time she was at the sink and using _her boyfriend’s toothbrush,_  her reflection was red-faced and maybe a _smidge_  panicked. 

She was _such_  a romantic lightweight, she thought. A part of her so badly wanted to be closer to Mikey, to be able to accept it when he wanted to get frisky, but it just wasn’t that easy. She got overwhelmed so quickly, reduced to blushing and hiding just from light flirting. 

On the bright side, though, Mikey clearly found her adorable. She might get frustrated with herself and her inability to handle too much affection, but at least her boyfriend liked that about her. And that was a pretty good plus. 

Lisa opted to stick around for breakfast (after putting her hoodie back on) and found the Lair _packed_. Apparently today was a get-together kind of day, because she spotted April and Casey here on top of the normal four brothers, one father, one live-in girlfriend combo. 

Mikey bounded up to them and hugged April outright, all but cheering, “April! When’d you get here?” 

He was clearly pleased, and, yes, that made Lisa a little uncomfortable. She tried to force back the feeling, though – Mikey was just affectionate in general and he always referred to April as his sister anyway. 

 _This is no different than you and Sam,_  she coached herself. 

“About half an hour ago,” April told him, accepting the hug and then trading cheek-kisses. 

 _No different than you and Sam!_  Lisa shouted in her head. 

“Hey, Lisa!” Jocelyn called, then, pleased at having spotted the brunette. “Did you stay the night?” 

That was clearly a tease, and Lisa hurried to blurt out, “Nothing happened!” 

“Nothin’?” Raph echoed, just a step behind Jo as the pair of them neared. “Aww, that’s gotta suck. Girl not tend to you, bro?” he tossed at Mikey. 

Mikey lined up his hands to flip off his brother, one pinky and thumb out in mimicry of a five-fingered hand. 

“Oh, my god,” Lisa whined, covering her face. 

“Don’t listen to the children,” Jo advised, coming up to give Lisa a hug. “Been a while since we hung out, what do you say? Wanna go out, get some bagels?” 

“What?” Raph said, snapping into the conversation from where he and Mikey had been getting into it. 

Mikey complained, “Aw, c’mon, Jo! I wanted to spend more time with my g-f.” 

Jo shrugged. “You get her twice a week, Mikey. I get her like once a month. Suck it up.” 

That did _not_  sound innocent. Lisa tried to cut in, but Raph beat her to it. 

“Whadaya mean, you ‘get’ her?” he demanded. “You two foolin’ around and not invitin’ me?” 

“Only once a month,” Jo told him, smirking. 

“That’s cruel, babe.” 

Yeah, no – Lisa was _not_  standing around and listening to this. Hands up, she declared, “Yeah, I’m out, thanks.” 

Jo seemed to take that as an invitation. She asked, “So, Dunkin’ Donuts? We could catch up.” 

Mikey interrupted, hugging Lisa to him as he shot back, “Nuh-uh, she’s mine for the day. Callin’ boyfriend privilege.” 

What. The. _Hell_. Was going on? Were they seriously fighting over her? 

All the more embarrassed, Lisa offered meekly, “Actually, I’m just gonna go home….” 

Mikey stared at her in shock, then threw at Jo, “You wrecked it!” 

“Yeah? Watch me fix it,” she returned smoothly. To Lisa, she said, “Look, I apologize. Too much teasing, I get it. I’ll stop. But I really do want to catch up. Girl’s day out?” 

Lisa thought it over, then asked, “You don’t work today? No school?” 

“No school, and surprise schedule conflict, so no job,” Jo agreed. “So, shall we? We can get away from our overbearing, hard-headed, possessive boy-toys and just chill.” 

“Hey,” Raph and Mikey whined in unison. 

“That’s not fair,” Mikey told her. 

“I’m offended. You offended, bro?” Raph asked. 

“Totally, bro. Full-on broken-hearted.” 

 _“You,”_ Raph told Jo, “are payin’ for that later.” 

“And I rest my case,” Jo declared dryly. 

After all that, Lisa was dying for a breather. “I’m with you,” she told Jo. “Lead the way.” 

“Ooh, hang on,” April cut in. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you,” she said to Lisa, “so this could be perfect. Group up?” 

To the brothers, Casey commented, “And we’re being abandoned.” 

“Honestly,” Leo said dryly, “I’m just surprised it hadn’t happened earlier.” 

“Hey, whoa,” Raph snapped, “whatchu mean by that?!” 

“He means,” Donnie answered, “you’re an overbearing, hard-headed, possessive boy-toy and anyone would need a break from you.” 

All at once, Raphael took off, charging right for Donnie; the taller boy led him on a chase, pausing every so often to blow a raspberry or make a rude gesture. Soon Leo and Mikey were involved, split into two teams; Leo was helping Donnie and Mikey was helping Raph. 

“Man,” Donnie quipped towards Leo, “guys with girlfriends are _sensitive.”_  

“Like little girls,” Leo agreed, grinning. 

“Ya wanna say that to my face, bitch?!” Raph snapped. 

“Sorry, can’t tell it apart from your ass!” 

“You mother– I’m gonna slap the blue offa you!!” 

And Lisa was _done._  “Three, two, one, go,” she prompted in a rush.  

“My car,” April directed. 

The three females piled into the car _right_  as Casey decided to join the fray – by throwing various objects into play and turning the spar into a game of improvised weaponry and projectiles.


	21. Girlfriend Party

**Rating:** PG (swearing/sexual hints)

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* * *

* * *

“So,” April began once the trio of females were seated in an IHOP, April on one side of the table and Jo and Lisa on the other. “I’m told Mikey’s head-over-heels in love.” 

Lisa winced, that blunt comment hitting her square in the heart. She couldn’t decide if she felt guilty, embarrassed, or thrilled – probably all three, to be honest. And she didn’t respond, just idly trailed her fingers over the table in nonsensical patterns. 

Jocelyn chuckled. “Hint for the future,” she advised April, “Lisa’s _really_ easily embarrassed.” 

“Am not,” Lisa muttered, even as she felt a blush heat her cheeks. 

Nodding, April accepted that. “My point,” she told Lisa, “is that I’m happy. But also concerned,” she added more solemnly. “So I want to get to know you and, hopefully, see things end well.” As she spoke, her eyes went from Lisa to Jocelyn, all too clearly outlining what she meant. 

Jo and Raph – so heavily and blatantly in love that Lisa tended to have a hard time looking at them when they were together. When they started pawing at each other and giving those lovesick doe eyes, Lisa usually had to just up and leave. 

Even worse was when they started getting passionate, but Lisa blamed that on her own lack of experience – and her Catholic upbringing. Her grandparents had never made the family attend church, but they’d had _rules_ in the house all the same. Lisa and Sam hadn’t even been allowed to watch certain channels because sometimes they showed sexual references. 

Jo argued April’s comment, though, replying, “I don’t wanna see things end at all, to be honest. That aside, we’re not here to talk about our boy toys, or so I thought.” 

Lisa blushed again hearing the term ‘boy toy’. She knew Jo was teasing, but it still made her feel like she was playing with her boyfriend – which she was _not._

“Correct,” April agreed. “So, Lisa,” she prompted, making the youngest female glance up again, “I hear you work in a music store. What kind?”

Job talk. Lisa could do that. Nodding, she replied, “It’s got two main parts: buy-sell-trade, and Gil takes literally everything from eight-tracks to CDs, and song-finding. The store has a slogan that the employees can find any song ever made. All we need is a tune, a line, an artist, whatever.” 

To April, Jo commented, “She’s _crazy_ good at that.” 

This time Lisa didn’t blush – she smirked. She was proud of her skills, silly though they might be. 

“Yeah?” April checked, smiling. “Have you proved yourself an asset by now?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lisa agreed, nodding. “Gil installed this recorder by the register just before I got hired. Customers record what they know of the song and give their deets, then we call them up when we find the song. Since I’ve started,” she said, thinking back, “I believe I solved eight or nine of them.” 

April’s brows lifted. “And you’ve only been working there for two months, is that right?” 

“Um….” Lisa hedged, trying to remember. They were in the final week of September now, and she’d gotten the job mid-July…. “A little over. Closer to ten weeks, I think.” 

“A song a week,” April concluded. 

Putting it in perspective like that, Lisa grinned. “Yep,” she agreed. Mikey had helped her with a few, too, and she was _pretty_ sure he’d started going to Donnie for additional aid when the two of them together couldn’t puzzle it out, but she’d never asked to make sure. 

She admitted as much to April and Jo, and she was _immediately_ cautioned to keep that to herself. 

“Don’t tell anyone at work,” Jo advised, winking, “and just take the praise.” 

That just made Lisa feel a little guilty about it. “Isn’t that, y’know….cheating?” 

“Would Gil care, if he knew?” Jo returned. “I doubt it. It doesn’t matter how you get the songs, it just matters that you’re keeping up the reputation. Besides,” she added in a low murmur, “if you think your coworkers don’t cheat, you’re fooling yourself.” 

A good point. After all, the slogan is “we can find any song from any era”, not that they could do it without using algorithms or outsourced aid. 

They had to pause then as their waiter came up to take their order, and the break made Lisa suddenly become aware of their surroundings. The restaurant was pretty packed, unsurprisingly; it was a Sunday morning, after all. And she started to notice just how many eyes were on _them._

Some were just curious, passing glances – others lingered, sticking to the trio with expressions she didn’t want to analyze. She tried to see the three of them from an outside perspective and came to the sudden conclusion that she was amongst the two most stunningly gorgeous women in this establishment. 

In fact, Jo and April were opposites on the “beauty” scale, Lisa thought. Jo was tanned and blonde with a round face, angled eyes and huge lips; April was a pale brunette with a shapely, exotic face and curved lips. 

By comparison, Lisa felt like a wet dog. Shrinking in on herself, contemplating her pierced brow and short, shaggy hair and long nose, she suddenly felt like she was a roach sitting beside two goddesses. 

Subdued by her own thoughts, she looked down, tense. But where she felt ostracized by all the looks their table was getting, her companions seemed utterly oblivious – like they’d been on the receiving end of such stares so many times they’d become inured to them. 

Lisa wondered how that felt – to be so sure of oneself, so confident, that one could actively ignore everyone else. 

She’d bet it felt _amazing._

Attention swinging over to her, Jo asked, “Hey, you okay?” 

“Huh?” Lisa blurted, glancing up in surprise. Somehow she hadn’t thought she’d get noticed by either of her breakfast buddies despite the fact that Jocelyn was a friend of hers and April had brought her here specifically to talk to her. 

Shaking off that thought train, she answered, “No – I’m good. Just lost in thought. Where were we?” she prompted, though she couldn’t quite look at the pretty women sitting with her. 

April, especially, looked suspicious, but she and Jo both rolled with it, thankfully. She said, “I was going to ask how you feel about my littlest brother.” 

Face flaming, Lisa gave a vague shrug. “I-I dunno, I like him. A lot.” 

Jo waggled her brows at April; Lisa elbowed her. 

“You like him?” April pressed. “In what way?” 

Even more embarrassed, Lisa confessed in a low mutter, “Every way, I guess?” When April just lifted her brows, surprised and concerned, Lisa blurted, “I dunno, he’s my first boyfriend! I don’t know how I feel. I just….I just wanna stay with him, y’know?” 

Jo gave her a friendly hug, rubbing her arm to help calm her nerves, while April sat in thought for a moment or two. 

Then the eldest woman replied, “Sorry if I seem surprised. You caught me off guard just now. He’s your first boyfriend? Really?” 

Nodding and blushing worse than ever – because, yes, this was kind of a sore spot of hers, and it didn’t help that she was out in public without a binder; her hoodie could only do so much on its own – Lisa sighed. “Can we not talk about that? Thanks,” she mumbled. 

“Yeah, sure,” Jo cut in sharply. “So, April,” she prompted, giving Lisa a break, “how’re things with you and _your_ boy-toy?” 

Chuckling, April answered, “Going pretty good. He’s working his way up to detective – on top of his night job,” she added with a smirk, leaving Lisa confused, “and while we don’t have a lot of time together, when we do….it’s the best.” 

For once, Lisa could empathize; she didn’t get to see Mikey very often, but she enjoyed her time with him more than anything else. 

Then April leaned in to quietly add, “I’ve been getting the impression he’s going to propose soon. Just waiting for the right moment.” 

Eyes lighting up, Jo gasped and grinned, elated. “Oh, I hope it gets recorded,” she said. “Maybe Donnie can outfit you with hidden cameras?” 

Laughing, April sat back. “I’m not _that_ corny, sorry,” she told Jo. “And what about you?” she tossed back. “You and Raphie still getting along?” 

“Raphie?” Lisa blurted, befuddled. 

Both woman chuckled. Jo answered, “It’s what April calls him.” 

“Bet he loves that,” Lisa replied dryly. 

Shrugging, April offered, “He doesn’t get a choice. Though he _has_ started calling me ‘Aprie’ in retaliation,” she mused, thoughtful. 

Chuckling, Jo commented, “You deserve it.” 

“Oh, come on. _You_ call him ‘baby’. How is that not worse than ‘Raphie’?” 

“‘Baby’ is my sexy pet name for him, that’s how.” 

Lisa was immediately uncomfortable. “Can we get back on track?” she ventured. 

Nodding, April heartily agreed. “Good idea. Jo?” she prompted. 

Smirking, Jo replied, “Oh, things are _fantastic_. In every possible variant. We’re just what each other needs,” she added more thoughtfully, seeming lost in reverie. “Even Splinter said so.” 

“He did?” April checked, grinning. 

Nodding, Jo confirmed, “He said we balance each other.” Then, perking up, she added, “That’s right, I didn’t tell you – I had a chat with him recently, and he said….well, he basically asked me to promise myself to Raphael.” 

Brows lifting, April asked, “And did you?” 

“Not right then,” Jo answered, shaking her head. “But that’s because….I already had. More than once.” 

April gave a whine, touched; Lisa bit her lip on a smile, feeling happy for her friend. 

“And?” April pressed. “Has he done the same?” 

With a naughty smirk, Jo answered, “Not _verbally_ , but yes.” 

Aaaand there was Lisa’s lingering embarrassment. How Jo could so blatantly say stuff like that, she’d never know. 

April seemed pleased, at least, chuckling and nodding. “Sounds like him,” she noted. “Won’t say it out loud, but then, his actions have always been stronger than his words.” 

“Which,” Jo agreed, “I’ve found, tends to make his words all the more touching – when he actually opts to speak.” 

Tossing a glance Lisa’s way, April teased, “I bet Mikey doesn’t have that problem.”

Lisa turned a deep red. Shaking her head, she answered with a delicate cough, “N-no, he doesn’t.” 

A hand against her mouth, Jo stage-whispered to April, “He already confessed his love.” 

“Really?” April asked, lighting up. 

Lisa, meanwhile, was mortified; how had Jo known that?! Shocked, she demanded, “Who told you that?!” 

The answer was obvious before Jo even answered, “Mikey.” 

“Of course,” Lisa muttered. 

Sighing, April leaned back in her seat, looking pleased. “This makes me really happy, you guys – two of my little brothers, in love. Who could ask for better?” 

Jo leaned her cheek into her fist, giving Lisa a warm smile. Awkward, Lisa asked, “What?” 

“Just thinking,” Jo answered, “when you’re going to answer him.” 

…. _Answer_ him? In what way? Confused, Lisa asked, “Uhh, answer what?” 

Brows lifting, Jo replied, “He told you he loves you. Repeatedly. When are you going to answer him?”

Blushing all over again, Lisa blurted, “Th-that’s not a question, though! A-a-and what makes you think I h-haven’t already?” 

“Aside from your adorable stuttering?” Jo chuckled. “You know how loud Mikey is. Did you know that weeks before he confessed to you, he just came home one day and screamed ‘I’m in love!’ to the whole Lair?” 

He had?! Dumbfounded and awkward, Lisa shook her head. 

April was grinning and shaking her own head, amused. She didn’t look the least bit surprised. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jo went on. “Woke up everyone but me and Raphael – cause, y’know, we have a door. No one else does. Leo was pretty annoyed. He reprimanded Mikey about it the next morning. ‘Look, I’m happy you’re happy,’“ she mimicked, “‘but try and be a little more considerate next time. Okay? Can you do that?’“ 

Lisa could envision the scene – Mikey excitedly bouncing in place as Leo chided him, not the least bit fazed by the talk. She’d bet he hadn’t even retained the conversation. 

“Point being,” Jo told her, “the day you say you love him back, Mikey will absolutely tell everyone. Individually. That’s how he is. Whether you like it or not,” Jo added, “every last milestone you have with him is going to end up shared.” 

Suddenly horrified, Lisa stared at the blonde, recalling that just yesterday she and Mikey had their first sexual encounter, ending in mutual climaxes. And, though she’d known Mikey’s personality was very much a “share everything” type, it hadn’t occurred to her until now that he’d brag about that at some point. 

Hell, he might’ve done it already. 

She felt her face burn at the idea. Maybe she shouldn’t go back to the Lair for a while, then – she’d planned on going back after breakfast, but now she didn’t think she could handle it. What if he’d already told everyone about….that tryst? What would they say to her? Raph would tease her, she knew that much – but the others? 

Yeah – she did _not_ want to go back, now. 

“….Judging by your stunned silence,” Jocelyn ventured, “I’m going to guess that _something_ already happened and it just hit you that Mikey’s gonna talk about it.” 

Too mortified to flinch right then, Lisa murmured, “I never asked him to be silent about that.” 

“You have your phone?” Jo prompted. 

Oh, that was brilliant! Suddenly snapping back to life, Lisa dug into her pocket to retrieve her phone, quickly texting her boyfriend. Jo and April started up conversation again, but Lisa tuned it out for the moment. 

[hey, did you say anything abuot that stuff we did yesterday???]

She waited, leg shaking, for his response. And she was surprised when she got it mere seconds later; he must have had his phone on him. 

[no, why? 🤨] 

Oh, thank god. 

[haha ok good, i was just worried you’d blab]

[of course i wouldn’t, that’s just between us 🧡 😘 😘 😘]

Oh. Wow. He’d thought about this, apparently, and concluded that his bros weren’t allowed to know. Suddenly heartened, she sent him back: 

[❤❤❤ thank you, boo! ❤❤]

His response? 

[anythig for you, bae 😉 🧡 🧡 🧡 👧 🧡 🧡 🧡]

Ugh, he was _too_ sweet! She had to check an urge to squeal, touched by his thoughtfulness. But when she considered how to reply, she suddenly clicked back into Jo and April’s conversation, picking up the words ‘heritage test’ and ‘Polynesian’ and ‘grandparents’. 

“Wait, what?” Lisa checked, perking up. 

Glancing her way, Jocelyn snapped her fingers. “That’s right, I never told you, and I imagine Mikey forgot, but I did a heritage test. Spit test,” she explained. “Turns out [**I’m half Polynesian**](https://sultrysirens.tumblr.com/post/176939662574/the-dancer-part-51). My _dad_ was Polynesian. And then Donnie did a search, since my dad was an orphan and all, and found what he believes is my dad’s birth certificate – and parents. I called them, and they wanna meet me,” Jo told her, grinning. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Lisa squeaked, excited. “That’s amazing!” She threw herself at the slightly older girl, hugging her. “Aww, I’m so happy for you, Jo.” 

Chuckling, Jo accepted the hug, returning it with a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, me, too. And so is my mom. She’s been talking to them about how and where to do a reunion.” 

“In this case,” April checked, “shouldn’t that just be a ‘union’?” 

“Har, har,” Jo replied smartly. “But, yeah, basically. I’ll be meeting my dad’s family for the first time.” Shaking her hands and patting her chest, she admitted, “It’s got me all nervous and excited.” 

“I bet,” April said. 

“When’s this gonna happen?” Lisa asked. 

“Dunno,” Jo answered with a shrug. “Like I said, Mom’s hashing out the details. She’ll update me as they go.” 

“That’s so cool,” Lisa grinned. Then, a little subdued, she admitted, “I never really had a relationship with my dad and his side of the family. As far as I can tell, they just don’t care about me and Sam. I can’t imagine how it feels to be….wanted, and whatever.” 

Jo was quiet for a moment; then she yanked Lisa into a tight hug, kissed her cheek loudly, and declared, “Well, _this_ family wants you, and we’re the best one, right?” 

Lisa giggled from the display, wrenching herself free of the blonde with difficulty. And the comment had done a great job lifting her spirits. She nodded, agreeing, “Yeah, you – w- _we’re_ the best,” she corrected. “Bar none.” 

April clearly agreed, grinning wide. 

Then, curious, Jo tilted her head and asked no one in particular, “What do we call this family, anyway?” 

Shrugging, April answered, “Well, the boys kind of took my name, since they were technically my pets, once. But I think ‘O’neil’ leaves something to be desired. Not fitting enough, you know?” 

A thought popping into her head, Lisa asked, “Well, what’s ‘turtle’ in Japanese?” 

_“Kame,”_ both Jo and April answered. 

Surprised, Lisa looked between them, then demanded, “Okay, how do _both_ of you know that?!” 

Amused, Jo replied, “Gee, take a wild guess.” 

“They’re very proud to be turtles,” April informed Lisa. “As an indirect result, you quickly learn the word for ‘turtle’ in most languages. _Kame, tortuga, testudo, chelóna, schildkröte….”_

 _“La tortue,”_ Jo went on, _“schildpad, ka laume, cherepakha….”_

Laughing, Lisa cut in, “Okay, okay, I get it.” 

Jo chuckled, checking, “So what were you going to suggest? They call themselves the _kame_ clan?” 

Snorting, Lisa shook her head. “I dunno, really. Just throwing out ideas, I guess.” 

“They already use _Tartaruga Brothers_ a lot,” April suggested. 

“Yeah,” Jo hedged, “but that’s for _them,_ not _us,_ y’know?” 

Nodding, April allowed, “Good point.” 

They were interrupted then as their food was delivered, Lisa grateful for the distraction. The conversation kept up, of course, but now she had the option of hiding in her meal to avoid answering something right away. Thus, she was kind of sad when her food was devoured and she had nothing to hide behind anymore. 

Worse, after a little while the subject moved back to _her_ and she had to deal with talking about herself again. To be fair, April was being kind with her questions and answering whatever Lisa asked, as well – getting to know one another, just like April had said before they left. 

It was through this – namely when April opted to pay the bill and Lisa protested, her newfound pride in monetary gains making her want to pay for herself – that she learned April was a news anchor and journalist. She hadn’t known that before, and learning April was exclusively on Channel Six explained why. 

They never watched that channel growing up, it being one of the ones her grandparents had blacklisted. Their reasoning? It reported on violence, drugs, sexual assaults, and other general “adult stuff” kids weren’t allowed to learn existed. 

Including politics, funny enough. As a result, growing up Lisa often didn’t even know who was the current president until a year or so into his term. 

Maybe it was time she started clicking over to Channel Six, then, she thought. She felt deeply stunted by her grandparents’ religious restrictions and wanted to get through that. She loved her mother’s parents, of course, but thanks to them she still flinched when she heard the word ‘shit’. 

For a recent graduate, that was embarrassing. 

For a New Yorker, it was even more so. 

Once breakfast was over with and the trio stepped out into the daylight (hey, the clouds finally moved on!) April asked, “So, what now?” 

Eyes lighting up, Jo immediately suggested, “Wanna go to the mall?” 

The _mall?_ Lisa had never been – at least, not by her own choice, and never in a way that resulted in her buying anything. She started to protest, but only got out a syllable before April was speaking up. 

“Sure, that could be fun. Lisa?” she checked. 

Shrinking down, Lisa hedged, “Uh, I dunno….I’ve never really been into malls and whatever.” 

Then Jo offered, “If you come with, I’ll buy you a new pair of shoes.” 

Lisa gave her a pained smile. The blonde _loved_ shoes and everyone knew it. “I don’t really need another pair,” she denied. 

Jo scoffed. “It isn’t about _needing_ them, it’s about _wanting_. Do you want more shoes? Maybe something cute and sexy?” she said, grinning and winking. 

Blushing a little, Lisa ventured, “Not really? I mean, what would I do with ‘em?” 

“Wear ‘em,” Jo laughed. “Maybe for Mikey, even. I’m sure he’d love to see you in something adorable.” 

Oh, god, that was only making Lisa want to go even _less_. “Y-yeah, no, thanks. Think I’ll just go home.” 

“Aww,” April whined, “we were having such a good time. Tell you what – no one will buy you anything or force you to, either, unless you ask. We can just go out and be young women for a little while.” 

…. _That_ was tempting. Lisa had never had such blatantly feminine friends before, and a part of her wanted to integrate herself with them and learn what it was to be a powerful, confident woman – so far she was just a mousy, hesitant older girl. And, she reasoned, this could be taken as less of a “mall run” and more of a bonding date. 

She yearned to have more solid friends, her life having been filled with for-a-little-while and friends-by-association types. So often she’d made a friend only to lost them within a year. 

To have close friends, the kind she could actually rely on, was like spotting a glimmering oasis in what had previously been an empty desert. 

The prospect was too tempting to be denied. And so, nodding, Lisa agreed, and their procession moved from IHOP to the nearest mall. She was nervous, of course, especially at the idea of being around so many strangers, but she felt a lot safer with these two absolute queens alongside her. 

Sure, she still felt like a roach compared to them, but she was a roach who was happy to be in their presence all the same.


	22. Fight? What???

**Rating:** PG (light swearing)

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* * *

On the way to the mall, Jocelyn called up Cassie, inviting her to come along. Lisa was alright with that. She liked Cassie; the redhead was a lot less… _intense_ than Jo was, making her a much more preferred companion to have around for lengthy amounts of time. 

No offense to Jo, of course, it’s just that Lisa couldn’t handle too much of Jo’s specific personality. And although Mikey had a similar energy to him, Jo was flirty while Mikey was affectionate. It was totally different. 

Besides, Mikey had learned how to read Lisa and dial things back if she was getting overwhelmed. Jo had no such dial. 

Cassie, by turns, was just plain calm. 

Meeting them at the mall, Cassie joined the group and off they went. There was a lot of idle chatter about subjects Lisa didn’t generally follow – fashion was a prominent one, and the girls stopped by every jewelry store to gawk at the glimmering gems, both things which Lisa had little passion for. Despite her multiple piercings, she just wasn’t into this stuff – she had one accessory for each hole she’d punched into herself and that was all she needed, she thought. 

Jocelyn and April, in particular, were of wholly different minds, and even Cassie perused the pretty earrings and necklaces at length. But while Lisa didn’t join them outright, it did make her think….she didn’t really like her brow piercings. She’d been thinking of taking them out, and maybe replacing them with a nose ring instead. 

She wondered what Mikey would think of her if she came back with a cute little ring in her nose and her brows rings missing. 

Ultimately Jocelyn couldn’t resist the lure of the shinies and got herself a pretty ruby pendant on a delicate silver chain, even wearing it out of the store. Cassie had convinced her not to get the matching ruby earrings – yet – by pointing out that they didn’t match all that well, anyway. And then the procession moved onwards, and Lisa found herself going from clothing outlet to clothing outlet as her companions gleefully went through racks of pretty, stylish things Lisa didn’t particularly like. 

At first she just offered weak comments and opinions on the things the others held up and tried on – until Jo went out of her way to drag Lisa into things. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t like _any_ of this,” Jo said, dumbfounded. She waved at the whole of the store, elegance in every corner; it was fully her style, Lisa thought. 

But those skinny jeans and button-up blouses and sundresses were _not_ Lisa’s.

Shrugging, she replied, “Not really? I mean, look at me. Unless you can find t-shirts with witty comments or baggy shorts and hoodies, I’ve got nothing to do.” 

Jo gave her an appraising sort of look, then said, “I got a feeling there’s a hidden stylist in you, Lisa. You just haven’t let her out. So try again – for me,” she prompted. “Take another look. Anything catches your eye, just try it on, see how it looks.” 

When Lisa remained doubtful, Cassie threw in, “It’s just for fun, Lisa. No pressure to buy anything unless you really, really like it.” 

Sighing, Lisa sent a look to April, wondering what the older female thought of all this; April just smiled back, shrugging. 

“The point of coming here was to have fun,” she pointed out. “Go on – give it a shot. Dress up, and if you don’t enjoy it, we’ll drop it. Right?” she added towards the others. 

C-J nodded, so in sync Lisa couldn’t help a dry laugh. Those two really were just like sisters, she thought, and it gave her a pang right in the heart. Someday she hoped to have such a relationship, as well – sure, she had Sam, but he was even _less_ into the mall scene as she was. 

Now, sighing, Lisa obliged, starting to prowl through the racks with a more discerning eye. And she could immediately tell how different her mind was to Jo’s; where the blonde meticulously perused the racks, holding up similar articles to compare them, Lisa just grabbed stuff that kind of looked okay. 

She was quick to a decision – maybe too quick, she thought. After all, Jo always looked like she’d walked right out of a fashion magazine, whereas Lisa looked like she was just plain poor. Maybe she _should_ be more picky. 

The other females trailed after her as she went, offering comments on the feel of this fabric or that pattern, and Jo even took and held the hangers Lisa pulled off the racks for her. And when Lisa realized she had given Jo a full armful of items, she hurriedly stopped the procession to head to the changing rooms. 

The count came out to fourteen pieces, and she felt ridiculous as she started trying them on – and wincing as her reflection kept showing a girl whose breasts were too big to comfortably fit into anything. _Damn it._

She was about ready to call it a day when Jo called out, “Well, you gonna show us or what?” 

Oh. Right. That was usually part of this, haha. Lisa was supposed to go out and do a pirouette for her friends – her friends who had _no idea_ she was a full f-cup (though, granted, that was her _measurement,_ and actual bras sometimes failed to accurately reflect that). 

Shit. 

She opted to put on the least-defining ensemble she’d picked, then came out, careful to hunch a little so her tits were less noticeable. 

She may as well have tried to hide a watermelon; all three immediately dropped their gazes to her chest and _stared_ , thunderstruck. 

In a snap, Lisa was back in the changing room with a tiny whine, thinking to herself that this was weirdly even more difficult than standing before Mikey had been. Having his gaze glued to her chest had made her want to run, too, but the point of the reveal had been to let him see it – so she could get over her self-doubt and be more open with him. It was more of an exercise for herself than it was a gift for him, really. 

Standing before the shocked eyes of April, Jo and Cassie had no such benefit. 

“Whoa, hang on!” Jo called, yanking back the curtain as Lisa closed it. 

Arms crossed over her chest, Lisa retreated, snapping, “Jo! Get out!” 

Instead, Jo stepped in, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Then, facing Lisa, she lowered her voice, saying, “Okay, let’s back up a few steps here. First – have you seriously been hiding those all through high school?” 

When Lisa gave a stiff nod, feeling cornered and suddenly scared, Jo coughed out a laugh. 

“Okay – and why?” Jo prompted. 

Giving a pathetic whimper, Lisa confessed, “Cause girls are mean.” 

Understanding dawned, Jo nodding as she got the picture. “And I suppose I didn’t make it any better, barging in here?” she checked. 

Lisa shook her head. Right then her mind was actively confusing Jo for Sarah, and she found herself unnerved and wary, as if she was expecting a hidden camera or sucker punch to the jaw. 

Both events had happened before. 

“Okay, well – stand up straight,” Jo directed, pulling on Lisa’s arms to make her stop hunching over. “Two things: one, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” she coached, “and two, you have nothing to fear. We’re friends, right?” 

Hesitant, Lisa nodded, though she was unable to let go of her instinctive fear of pretty blondes at the moment. 

“That means,” Jo told her, “I’m going to support you. No matter what. Now, what do you say we try this again? I’ll go back out,” she said, inclining her head at the curtain, “you wait a second and come out. I promise, no one will be staring. We’ll critique the outfit and nothing else. Okay?” 

Desperate to be done with this confrontation, Lisa murmured, “Okay.” 

Pleased, Jo nodded and backed out, and Lisa heard her explaining things to Cassie and April. Using the time to its full benefit, Lisa coached herself in calming her rampant, nervous heart and telling herself to straighten up. She didn’t need to thrust her chest out in the air, but she wasn’t going to let herself slouch, either. 

And, she admitted to herself, this was probably a perfect opportunity. She trusted Jo and Cassie, and she believed April was a good person – she knew they’d protect her from any kind of unwanted or hateful attention. All she had to do, then, was teach herself to quit _hiding_ all the time. Luckily, that was her goal, anyway; now that she was out of school and away from immature children she desperately _wanted_ to let go of her bullied past, to get over her fears and embrace who she was…and what nature had given her. 

It was just ridiculously hard to follow through on that. 

This would be good for her self-confidence, she knew it. The only problem was actually stepping back out there and letting the others really see her. She couldn’t imagine what they were thinking – or, rather, she _could_ , as she’d heard plenty of voiced thoughts during her early teens, and that was the main thing holding her back, now. 

_Ugh, what a disgusting girl. Must have daddy issues. Need more attention, bitch? How’s this? Have some self-respect. Haha, what, you tryin’ to be the most popular girl in school, whore?_

The worst part about bullying, she mused, was how deep the words could cut – and how it lingered for years afterwards. She wondered if those bullies would’ve still said all those hateful things, had they known how devastating they could be. 

Probably. That was the nature of bullies, after all. 

Snapping herself back to reality, Lisa gave an inward shake, refocusing. The past didn’t matter – Mikey had said so multiple times, now, and she believed him. Now all she had to do was follow through and let go. 

Then walk out of the changing room and stand still, letting her friends eyeball her chosen clothing. Hah – yeah, still hard, she thought, eying the curtain warily. It felt like there were crocodiles on the other side. 

_Treat it like a one-time event,_ she told herself – again. _No regrets._ It was a strangely helpful mantra, and she repeated it over and over as she faced the curtain. Pulling it aside with difficulty, she stepped out, awkwardly gave a spin, and waited. 

Jo, she saw immediately, was staring at her pants with a drawn brow. Cassie kept glancing between her shirt and pants, above and below her waistband, as if comparing the colors, and April seemed more concerned with Lisa’s choice of shoes. She was wearing her yellow Converse, as usual, and it clashed badly with the khaki slacks and blue long-sleeve blouse she’d picked. 

Ugh, she looked like a fashion disaster, she thought. 

After a moment Jo spoke up, declaring, “Okay, new rule: Lisa and _brown_ don’t mesh. No more of that,” she told Lisa firmly. “And I think long sleeves aren’t flattering. I’m thinking halter top and booty shorts.” 

“What?!” Lisa snapped, horrified. _Booty_ shorts?! 

“Trust me, you’ll look so hot,” Jo told her. 

Lisa squeaked, she was so distraught. “I-I don’t want–”

“You have _killer_ legs,” Jo interrupted. “Now do you wanna show them off or hide them away?” 

The fact that Lisa couldn’t even answer that was apparently answer enough. And, taking that as her cue, Jo clapped her hands and then disappeared into the racks again. 

Lisa looked pointedly at Cassie. “What just happened?” she demanded. 

“You became Project A,” Cassie answered dryly. 

* * *

For the next _two hours,_ Lisa was dragged from one clothing store to the next, her three friends swarming her with suggestions, comparisons, and a full rainbow of color. In the end, Lisa didn’t buy a single thing – she was too uncomfortable with it, on top of still being too poor for a shopping spree – but Jo went ahead and got her something as a gift. 

Lisa damn well tried to reject it, but Jo was adamant in this. “You deserve something gorgeous, something that accents your features,” Jo told her, “even if all it does is collect dust in a drawer.” 

The chosen pieces? A halter top and booty shorts. Lisa had only put them on to placate the blonde, but Jo had immediately cooed over them, calling Lisa a [**“hot mama”**](https://78.media.tumblr.com/a25740850efa4c1f5a40c1746666de22/tumblr_p6qv47KGnW1wtuqpio4_r1_1280.png) – a term that had gotten Lisa to quickly strip them right back off as she blushed to high Heaven. 

And now they were in a bag, and whether she liked it or not (she kinda liked it), she was taking them home. Y’know, to gather dust in her drawer. Nothing else. She’d never actually wear it anywhere. 

Ever. 

But aside from the forced clothing shopping (resulting in one parcel for Lisa and multiple for each of her three companions), it really was _fun._ They did a ton of talking, learning a lot about one another as they went (excluding Cassie and Jo, who already knew everything about each other), and there was a lot of laughter involved. 

Twice a group of males tried to hit on them and Lisa got to watch Jocelyn and April verbally throw a smack-down on the haughty guys. It was kind of hilarious, though Lisa _did_ feel a little bad for one of the men – he turned beet red, looked mortified, and afterwards he slunk off, clearly nursing a bruised ego. 

She hoped he’d think twice before engaging with a group of queens (and one cockroach) in the future. 

Noon rolled around and they had lunch in the food court, then made another round through the mall, poking their nose into each outlet and pointing out cute or pretty or interesting things they found. At one point they were in a Spencer’s and Jo, snorting, displayed a penis-themed drinking straw. 

And then – and Lisa had no idea how this had happened – they went out for drinks and she ended up with a fuzzy navel. Being just barely over eighteen and never having consumed alcohol before, she was understandably wary, but she went ahead and tried it anyway. 

Her conclusion: fuzzy navels were _amazing._ It tasted so good, and maybe that was because she overheard April directing the bartender to make each drink “light”; either way, she got a strong flavor of orange and loved it. 

Though she _was_ surprised that the bartender hadn’t carded the whole group – technically, shouldn’t they have been thrown out? Three of them were eighteen; only April was over twenty-one. Evidently the guy either didn’t care or just really wanted a sale, because he left them alone. 

And, Lisa noticed, whereas April let the girls order what they wanted, she only had one drink and followed it with plain waters. By the time they were out of the bar – now _well_ past noon – the drinks had gone to Lisa’s head and all she wanted anymore was to just go with the others wherever they wanted. With April as their chauffeur, they hopped from place to place, stopping wherever anyone wanted to stop. 

Among the list: two specialty clothing stores, Grand Central Station, a movie theater (nothing interesting was showing) and three more bars. April was responsible, keeping away from any alcoholic beverages and even stopping the others from drinking after a certain point – which was good cause Lisa was feeling _weird_ by the end. 

She kept having blackouts of activity and coming back to find herself (usually) in the same place she’d been when it started, which she recognized was good, but while logic dictated she should feel alarmed by that, she didn’t. At some point she realized she’d taken off her hoodie and tied it around her waist, and was surprised to notice she felt no fear or embarrassment. 

It was liberating as hell, and she enjoyed it while she could. 

Overall, their group just kept getting louder with time – Jocelyn’s was the biggest voice, but Lisa soon climbed to a close second. Cassie was constantly holding Jo’s hand, too, and after a while Lisa joined in by taking Jo’s other hand. 

The blonde clearly loved it, grinning and swinging their joined arms. 

But, eventually, the crazy date ended. April drove Cassie home (she’d taken the bus, thankfully, and had no vehicle to retrieve), then the remaining trio went back to the Lair. They sang along with the radio on the way back, and were still singing as they climbed out of the car and faced their respective boyfriends. 

Casey was clearly amused, smirking at the females, whereas Raph was struggling to hold back laughter. He immediately took Jo’s bags from her, hoisted her up over his arm, and carried her off as she giggled madly. April, being sober by now, just happily went up to her man and kissed him. 

Lisa barely noticed, her admittedly spotty focus zeroing in on Mikey. She was oblivious to the shocked looks she was getting as she tossed herself at him, having forgotten about her hoodie by now. 

“Miss me?” she giggled, grinning. 

Mikey was clearly surprised. “You’re drunk?” he demanded. 

“Nuh-uh!” she denied. “I’m buzzed. April said so.” She thought. 

He didn’t seem to know how to react to that. A little concerned, he tugged her hoodie from her waist, saying, “C’mon, you should put this on.” 

She whapped it away when he tried to put it on her arms, whining, “Uh-uh, it’s hot. Don’t want it.” 

“Lisa,” he said, holding her chin still to keep her focused on him, “I’m tryna help you. You’ll regret this later.” 

Probably, but right then she didn’t care. Stepping back, she tossed out her arms and declared, “Maybe, but right now I just wanna be free, okay?” 

He didn’t look any happier, she noted. _Geez,_ she thought, _why can’t he just be happy? Raph was happy with Jo…_

Sighing, Mikey came up and hefted her up in his arms. She couldn’t help a delighted laugh from the move, the rush tickling her. She was immediately confused, though; why was he taking her into the tunnels? 

Perking up, she demanded, “Hey, where’re we goin’?” 

“Takin’ you home,” he answered, sounding weirdly grim. 

Seriously? She didn’t want to go home – and why was he so displeased? She’d had fun all day, and now he was clouding her high. 

She wriggled, trying to extricate herself from his solid grip; he gave her a sharp look, and the surprise she felt right then halted her struggles. Okay – what the _heck?_

Starting to feel her eyes fill, her good mood crashing, she murmured, “What’d I do…?”

He stopped, face falling. “I just…this isn’t you,” he told her. 

Says who?! Her heart was starting to ache, getting this from him. “What’s ‘this’?” she demanded, hearing her voice crack. “Me being _happy?_ Not feeling all ashamed of myself all the time?” 

“Kitten,” Mikey whined, “that’s not what I mean. You’re not–” 

“–confident, powerful, or happy with myself?” she cut in. 

“No–” 

“I don’t wanna be that stupid girl anyway, why can’t I be someone else for a little while? Why d’you hate that?!” 

“I don’t – you’re getting this all wrong,” Mikey told her, starting to panic. 

“Right – because I’m so stupid, I can’t figure out–” 

“You are _not_ stupid, Lisa!” 

Well, she certainly wasn’t smart enough to understand what he meant, was she?! 

“Put me down!” she snapped, anger erasing her sorrow. 

Reluctantly, he did so, and once she was on her feet she snatched her hoodie from his grasp. Once she had it on and zipped up, she spread her arms, feeling angry tears brimming as she blurted, “Happy?!” 

He looked like he was going to cry, actually, and though she felt bad about that, it was too weak to battle her pique. 

Scoffing, she turned and went back to the Lair, wiping at the wetness in her eyes as she went. She sought out April again, getting the other woman’s attention with a choked, “H-hey, c-can you take me h-home?” 

Concern _radiated_ off April as she got up from her seat to approach Lisa. Though April was shorter, she was also wearing heels, bringing the two up to eye level. And, as she reached out to cup Lisa’s cheek, she asked, “Are you okay? What happened?” 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Lisa muttered. It made her chest hurt even _thinking_ about it, anyway. “Forget it. A-anyway, can you?” she prompted. 

This _sucked._ She’d wanted to enjoy the rest of her day with her boyfriend, had envisioned them goofing off in the skate room and challenging his brothers to WiiU games and kicking their butts. She’d wanted it so bad – but she couldn’t be here anymore. 

Knowing Mikey didn’t like her feeling uninhibited made it too painful to stay. 

“Of course,” April assured her, voice gentle. Giving Lisa’s arm a tug, she led them down to the car again. It was just as well, Lisa thought; her bags were in the car, anyway. 

But when she reached for the door handle, her hand was suddenly caught and pulled; Lisa found herself getting spun around, and before she had herself oriented enough to figure out what was happening, lips crashed into hers in a desperate, frantic kind of kiss. 

She heard herself squeak from surprise, body locking down as her previous anger battled against affection for supremacy. She knew, without thought, that this was Mikey kissing her and that he was apologizing, in a way, and her instinctive reaction was to immediately forgive him. 

She wanted to – but her heart ached too much to just give in. She yanked her face away, covering her mouth to prevent another such apology. 

Undeterred, he just held her a little tighter, moving to kiss her cheek and temple instead. Just this was persuasive enough to get her to accept him, her free arm sliding around his neck in a loose but insistent hold. 

“I’m so sorry, Lisa,” he told her between pecks to her face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was just feeling scared, is all. But, hey, if you forgive me, I’ll let you beat me in Smash Bros,” he offered with a weak smile. 

God, he made her want to cry. Her eyes felt like they were going to overflow any second, making him look all wobbly. 

Sniffing, she muttered, “You were gonna get rid of me, though.” 

Shocked, he blurted, “No – I just wanted you to be somewhere safe while you recovered. Honest.” 

“It isn’t safe here?” she pressed, her voice started to rise in pitch as her battle against sorrow steadily lost its footing. 

She could feel him starting to panic again, and he actually did a little bounce in place as he fought with himself. “Well, yeah, of course it is – b-but, y’know…it’s different,” he offered weakly. 

This wasn’t helping her fragile emotional state at _all_. She whined, “Y-you just don’t wanna see me like this!” 

Ugh, god, that was a crushing realization – her own boyfriend didn’t want to see her as anything but the broken, weak, mousy little _roach_ that she was! He’d just as soon get rid of her the moment she felt confident in herself! 

With a panicked whine, he denied, “No – I don’t want my _brothers_ to see you like this!” 

Like that was any better?! “Why?” she demanded, her voice rising to a sharp snap. “You think I’ll suddenly be like – like hey, Leo, wanna shag?! You _know_ I wouldn’t–” 

“I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret,” he told her firmly. 

“Like what?!” 

“Like – I dunno, like stripping and running around naked or something! You’d regret that, you know it–” 

Horrified, she shot back, “You think I’m so drunk I’d go streaking?!” 

“No, but – I dunno, I just–” 

“Enough!” she snapped. “Might as well just say you don’t like me being _happy_ with myself, cause that’s what you mean!” 

All at once he looked _pissed_. But instead of saying anything, he instead yanked her against him and kissed her, his tongue delving past her lips. 

A coil of hunger threaded right through her, undeniable even with her as incensed as she was. A part of her wanted to just bite down, teach him a lesson – the rest of her just moaned, so easily seduced by his kiss it was pathetic. She kept trying to fight, but instead of pushing him away, she clung; instead of turning her face, she angled her head for better access; instead of making him stop, she kissed him back. 

And it sent hot, needy pulses through her, coalescing between her legs and making her want to crawl up him like a vine. She might have, if he didn’t have such a strong grip on her. 

By the time he drew back, she was feeling dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d consumed. And though she tried to follow him, lifting his head was all it took to get out of her range. She whined, trying to pull him back down with what feeble strength she had. 

Now much more calm, he murmured to her, “I love you, Lisa. You know that. I love you when you’re cute, when you’re lost in your own world, when you’re sexy, when you’re taunting me, when you share your stories with me – and when you’re drunk. That won’t change. But I also want what’s best for you,” he added more solemnly, “and right now, that’s being somewhere where you can’t do anything to harm yourself – physically or emotionally. That means going home. Okay?” 

And now she felt like crying again – because his words pierced her right through the heart, as real as being struck by Cupid. Sniffling, she replied, “And all I want is to be here, with you. I wanna stay. I’ll do whatever you say,” she promised with another sniffle, “I just wanna be with you.” 

Now _Mikey_ looked on the verge of tears, too. He paused, seeming to think it over, before giving her a tentative smile. “You sure about that? What if I said you gotta do log rolls from one side of the Lair to the other?” 

Straightening up, she made to walk over to the main exit tunnel, ready to show him how serious she was; he caught her, keeping her from going even half a step. 

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, “you’re serious. I get it. And fine, you can stay – but I’m _so_ gonna take advantage of this right you just gave me. I hope you like giving shell rubs, cause you’ll be doing that for the next three hours.” 

“Should I get the hot oil first?” she retorted, starting to smile. 

He grinned. Then, sobering, he directed, “But first: water. Wanna get you sober again.” 

“Aww,” she whined, even as she followed him, hand-in-hand.


	23. Ninja Training Session, But Better!

**Rating:** PG (swearing/ninja violence)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Well, this was a bizarre development, Mikey thought. Lisa, drunk, in his home, had just challenged Leo to a game of Super Smash Bros Brawl. When Leo politely declined, Lisa taunted him. 

“What, afraid the little girl is gonna kick your butt? Cause she is,” she grinned, “unless you man up. C’mon. Wuss. Wussy. Wuuuusssssyyyy,” she intoned. 

Leo, amused, agreed – probably thinking he could handle her, being a human and all – and was promptly and soundly defeated. He caught on quick and went from playful to serious after his first two ring-outs, only to continue getting full-on wrecked. 

At the end, when the match resulted in her the victor, Leo was stunned. Mikey, meanwhile, was struggling to keep from losing it, so amused and proud of his girlfriend right then. 

Then, very seriously, Leo commanded, “Rematch.” 

He really should’ve known better, Mikey thought. Of his brothers, Leo was the worst at video games – not because he didn’t have the reflexes, but because he didn’t have the right mind. Smash Bros, especially, was a game of memorization and reactions; planning ahead would get you nowhere. Leo’s strengths were useless. 

Another loss. Another rematch. Donnie had joined them by now, watching with increasing humor. 

Another loss. This time, for the rematch, Lisa played with a handicap; she was two lives down from the start. 

Leo still lost. 

Aggravated, he gave up, jumping up and tossing the controller away from him in a rare moment of rage; Donnie dove to catch it before it could get damaged. 

Then, holding it up, Donnie asked Lisa, “New challenger approaches?” 

“I’m down,” she agreed. 

This time, unable to resist, Mikey joined in – sitting squarely between his brother and girlfriend in a blatant show of possession. A free-for-all started then, but though he _tried_ to favor Lisa over Donnie, ultimately that backfired on him, namely because Lisa gave him no such allowance. 

Sometime later Raph found them – solo, Mikey noticed. 

“Where’s Jo?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the screen. 

“Sleepin’ off her buzz,” Raph answered, watching them. It didn’t take him too long to figure out who was which avatar, and then he started commenting on the battle – “Ouch, did that hurt, Mikey?” “Ooh, bet that was embarrassing!” “Hah, Zelda can really smash, huh?” – much to the annoyance-stroke-amusement of the players. 

As soon as the match was over – Donnie took the crown this round – Mikey shoved the fourth controller into Raph’s hands. “Gonna talk shit, gonna get smashed,” he said, fully aware that there was an innuendo in that and not caring. 

Donnie chortled. 

Several more matches passed in a haze of laughter and distraught screams. It was great fun, Mikey thought; it was nice to play with three others who were all good at this. Normally a four-way match always ended with Leo being the loser, but with Lisa taking his place it was much more balanced. They were _all_ being challenged and enjoying themselves. 

And, Mikey noticed, Leo was nowhere in sight – probably went to the dojo, he thought. 

Then, as the latest match ended – Mikey winning with Ike, Lisa in second with Yoshi – she got up and stretched, moaning low. It was such a little thing, yet so sexy at the same time that he found himself enraptured. 

…Right up until he realized two of his brothers were _right there_. 

He hopped to his feet, sliding an arm around her middle with a loud, “So, break time? Whatchu wanna do, baby girl?” 

He was _fully_ aware of how possessive he was being right then, but he soothed himself with the knowledge that she wouldn’t want his brothers gawking at her, anyway. She was one-hundred percent a “Mikey” girl. 

And yes, that thought thrilled the hell out of him. 

She grinned, turning towards him to grasp her hands behind his neck. “Hmmm,” she intoned, thoughtful. “We can continue my 720 lessons,” she offered. 

Over the last month, Mikey had been giving her a lot of skateboarding lessons. She was a quick learner, he discovered – as long as things were phrased in a way she understood. Whoever had been giving her lessons before hadn’t caught on to that, which was why she’d had so much trouble with it. 

Now that she was getting directions in terms she understood, there was no such barrier. She’d mastered almost every move he’d taught her – though, he noted, she had a lot of difficulty with reversals. 

She still couldn’t do an Ollie, despite having mastered the Nollie. Flip her around on a skateboard and she was lost. 

It was _so_ damn cute. 

Her latest lesson was the 720 spin. And while Mikey wanted to continue the schooling, he was worried about doing it now; was Lisa sober enough for this? What if her balance was still off and she hurt herself? He couldn’t catch her _every_ time, no matter how he tried. 

Instead, he suggested, “Actually, been meaning to add some new tags. Wanna help?” 

She tilted her head. “Like, graffiti?” she checked. 

Nodding, he explained, “There’s way too many plain walls around here. That one,” he said, pointing at one, “could use, like…a cat getting a piggyback ride from a llama. Whadaya think?” 

Chuckling, she hedged, “Uh, well, I’ve never really used spray paints before and whatever, so…”

“…so, it’s a good time to try it out,” he finished for her, grinning. 

She ducked her head, biting her lip in that familiar, adorable way he loved, and agreed, “Uh, yeah? Sure?” 

Good ‘nuff! 

By the time he turned back towards the couch, his brothers had vacated the room. Figuring they went to their respective recreational rooms, Mikey took Lisa by the hand and led her into their storeroom. There, they stuffed a box full of the collected spray paints and carried it back into the main room. After making sure they were properly attired for this (with gloves, masks and goggles), they got to work. 

Mikey’s style could best be summarized as “sharp and bright”. Lisa’s, he quickly learned, was more “cute and colorful”; she painted lots of swirls and rainbows as she worked. There were various kinds of experimental flowers in her sections, many of which had been hurriedly covered up by other things, and he found it adorable as hell. 

And, he saw, she got _into it._ After a little while of her hemming and hawing, every little picture and cartoon hesitant, she suddenly switched to “driven” and got to freaking _work._ By the end she’d painted a gorgeous scene over a ten-foot span of the wall, as high as she could reach, of rain falling on a field of flowers. 

As soon as he noticed it, he was enraptured all over again, eating up the incredible mural. She obviously had very little idea how to use the paints, but that hadn’t stopped her from making clear and beautiful, colorful flowers. At the very least, she’d figured out how to layer them, and at the end she dutifully waited for them to dry before adding in a few final touches. 

Mikey had been in the middle of painting a ninja scene, black figures fighting (and losing) against four colored ones, complete with lightning bolts, flames, and sound effect boxes – he’d all but abandoned it, now that he’d seen Lisa’s mural. 

Setting his can down, he strode over to her, looking everywhere he could see color as he went. There was so _much_ to this, she must’ve been seriously caught up in it. 

As he neared, she glanced back, then ducked her head and hunched her shoulders, embarrassed. 

_Swoon!_

Grinning (not that anyone could see it under his mask), he looped his arms around her in a tight hug. 

She squeaked, the cutie. 

“This’s gorgeous,” he told her. 

A whine escaped her, and then she replied, “Y-yeah? You think so?” 

He absolutely thought so. Pulling off his mask, he kissed her head, answering, “Duh. You think I’d lie to you?” 

She gave him a blank look. “You told me you couldn’t wink before. And then winked.” 

“That was a _joke,_ not a _lie,”_ he sighed. 

“Same diff.” 

Chuckling, he dropped it, instead turning back to the field she’d painted. “Is this your first time messing with spray paints?” he asked. 

She gave an awkward shrug. “Kinda? I mean I’ve used ‘em before, just never without stencils. Or by choice,” she added more quietly. 

Confused and a little concerned, he checked, “By choice?” 

Hedging, she answered, “Ummm, so, I’ve had friends before that were like… ‘If you’re really my friend, you’ll do this!’ And then it was like…I had to spray paint some stuff or they drop me.” Annoyed, she added dryly, “I got arrested twice cause of that crap.” 

He winced. “Yeah, hope you’re not still friends with them.” 

“Not anymore, yeah,” she agreed, “but not cause of that stuff. Just…drifted apart, mainly.” She finally pulled her mask down then, tugging it around her neck. Looking over her mural, she mused, “It really looks okay?” 

He gave her another quick kiss to the cheek. “It’s adorable. Just like you,” he added, sincere. 

She blushed, looking away. 

N’yaawwww. 

Turning his attention back to her creation, he asked, “So, you like flowers and rain?” 

Grinning now, she nodded. “Yep. Maybe it’s all typical of being a girl and whatever, but I’ve always liked flowers. And rain’s amazing. I love the sound, the smell, the feel…it’s like…like the world’s blood, or something.” 

_God,_ she was cute, he thought. It made him kind of sad that the clouds had moved on by now; if he’d known this before, he would’ve taken her out to play in the rain sometime. 

It was too late for that now – unless, of course, the clouds decided to make one more pass. He could hope, at least. 

In the meantime, he could enjoy her mural. “It looks amazing,” he told her again, making sure her drove it into her head. She had such low self-esteem, it was sad – but that just meant he could pile on the compliments and watch her blush every time. That wasn’t such a bad thing, now was it? 

She blushed again just now. Then, glancing at him over her shoulder, she teased, “Now aren’t you glad you didn’t send me home?” 

Was he _ever!_ Grinning, he cuddled her closer, nuzzling against her shoulder, and she giggled and squirmed against him. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “yeah, I am. And so’re you,” he added, smirking. 

“Well, duh,” she agreed, “I didn’t wanna go in the first place. But this was a lot more fun than what I was planning, anyway, so thanks, I guess?” 

Curious, he asked, “What were _you_ planning?” 

“Uh, well, Smash Bros,” she told him, chuckling. “Only I was thinking of doing teams, not free-for-alls. You an’ me against Raph and Donnie.” 

Oh, man, they would’ve _destroyed_ his brothers, Mikey realized. “Okay, yeah, we gotta do that sometime.” He just just envision it now: the two of them against Donnie and Raph – or, if they could hack the game somehow, Donnie, Raph _and_ Leo – and utterly wiping the floor with them. 

He’d bet someone would rage quit in less than five matches. 

Mikey and Lisa retreated to the skate room then, bringing their spray paints along in case they decided to paint something else, but only spent a little while there before they were interrupted. 

“Hey, Mikey,” Leo directed, “c’mon.” 

Perking up, Mikey checked, “Uh, sure? What’s goin’ on?” He sent Lisa a glance, wondering if she should come or not. 

“Dad called a spar session,” Leo explained. 

Right now? They’d already had a match earlier – granted, it wasn’t their scheduled time and all, but Splinter usually allowed it as long as they were all involved and training by any measure. 

A little concerned (and, yes, disappointed that he’d have to stop cuddling his girlfriend while he was gone), Mikey asked, “We in trouble?” 

“Don’t think so,” Leo shrugged. “You know Dad – he’s got a point. He’s just not going to tell us what it is.” 

Sighing, Mikey hefted himself up, then focused on Lisa. He was instantly torn on what to say, though; half of him wanted her to be entertained and not bored by watching the brothers fight, but the other half of him _really_ wanted to show off. As a rule he generally took any and every opportunity to do so, but Splinter’s lessons usually left little leeway for prancing. 

They were there to learn something, and Mikey loved being a ninja enough that he was serious about it more often than not. 

It wasn’t until after the sessions that he usually ran off to brazenly show his newfound skills. 

Hedging, he offered, “Wanna come? It’ll probably be boring, but–” 

“You kiddin’ me?” Lisa interrupted, eyes bright. “You have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to get invited to something like this? Let’s go!” she prompted, nudging him. 

Okay, lesson learned. Lisa wanted to watch them train. Cool beans. Only problem? Now he was torn over a different issue: whether to show off the entire time or actually learn what his father was trying to teach. 

Crap. 

“Actually,” Leo cut in, “Dad asked to bring her, too.” 

Surprised, the couple shared a glance, wondering what this was about. Splinter called a training session, after they’d already had one, and requested Lisa to be there, too? Suffice to say Mikey was intrigued. 

He followed Leo through the Lair, his girlfriend on his tail, until they reached what was technically not a part of the home. It was a very wide, very tall vertical tunnel, easily thirty feet wide. Thick pipes hugged and circled the walls, and a series of spotlights had been set up along the height of the chamber – a good couple of hundred feet. 

Man, they were _deep_. Technically even their home wasn’t this far underground. 

Everyone seemed to be present (except for April and Casey; they’d gone home by now). Even Jocelyn was here, though she looked a little annoyed. Probably pissed that she’d been woken up, Mikey thought; the blonde was a very grumpy kind of sleeper, they’d learned. Pair that with her having been buzzed earlier today and it made sense for her to be aggravated. 

Splinter was already partway up the tunnel, and a huge, tangled net of chains was spanning the width. He was meticulously attaching chains here and there, using hooks and knots as needed, some of the chains attached to the pipes and some to other chains. It was a three-dimensional net, too, taller than Splinter was and criss-crossing in seemingly chaotic ways. And, Mikey saw, every so often Splinter just wound a chain around another, hooking it to two points with a single loop holding it onto another. 

That…was going to be unstable, he realized. Stepping or pulling on a chain that’d been wound around another? It’d slip right out from under you, sliding along the second chain. Getting the idea now, Mikey felt a mix of trepidation and excitement. 

Oh, man, that looked _fun._ The threat of injury was very real, but damn if he didn’t want to jump into it already.  

Raph was the last to arrive, carrying a huge handful of heavy chains. When Mikey pointed it out, Raph shrugged. “Dad asked me to grab it. Dunno what it’s for.” 

Without pausing his work, Splinter extended his tail down, and Raph tossed the chains up. Catching them, their father went back to work, taking the second set up higher than the rest by a good dozen feet and making a series of loose ties up above. It was noisy as hell, but in a way Mikey kind of liked. 

Maybe it was the fact that they’d grown up underground, but he weirdly enjoyed the sound of metallic banging and scraping. 

Then, finally, Splinter finished and dropped to the ground. The brothers didn’t need direction at this point; as soon as the net was vacated, they climbed up it. Donnie tossed Mikey up as Raph did the same for Leo, and then Mikey and Leo hauled up their respective ladders. The chains gave a few threatening groans from the weight, so they quickly sought different points in the net, worried it’d break if they remained grouped. 

Glancing down, Mikey saw Lisa and Jo were together, watching with intrigued, delighted gazes. Jo said something; Lisa grinned. 

Mikey waved at her, then called, “Eyes on me, okay baby girl?” 

Shaking her head, she shouted back, “Yeah – where else would I look?” 

_Oh,_ that made him happy. 

Cutting in, Splinter finally gave the brothers their directions: “Silence. Speed. Balance. Just a few of the tenets of the ninja, and ones you will need in excess for this task. Fall, and lose.” 

The brothers shared pleased looks, the task computing more as “fun” than anything else. Even Wore-His-Serious-Pants Leo was smirking, amused. 

“A stipulation,” Splinter went on, getting their attention again. “Leonardo, Michelangelo. You are paired. Raphael, Donatello – the same. However, sometimes you will be a team, and sometimes you will be opponents. I will call when to swap.” 

Okay, this was sounding better by the second. Mikey had to concentrate to keep from bouncing in excitement (it would threaten the stability of the net), ready to get to it. He sent Leo a big smile, wondering if this would end in them eliminating the other team or one another. 

To the girls, Splinter added, “Cheer, flirt, tease – distract them any way you can. This is your task.” 

Jocelyn suddenly looked like she’d just hit the jackpot, and Lisa, blushing, covered her mouth on a grin. She nodded; Jo saluted, cackling. 

Mikey sent Raph a grin – Raph looked pained, which was understandable. Brazen, shameless Jo had just been given free reign to pester to him, a skill she had already mastered in their first month together. It was going to be hell for him. 

“Finally,” Splinter called up to the group, “no weapons. Hands only.” 

Well, darn. There went Mikey’s plan to use his nunchaku to swing around. Oh, well. The brothers dutifully removed their weaponry (their signature ones, yes, but also their shuriken, picks, and anything else; they even removed their packs and Donnie took off his goggles), dropping them through the net; Splinter caught the objects and set them aside. 

Now clad only in their pants, shoes, and masks, they were ready to go. Tensions were visibly high, the brothers sharing smirks, grins, and a few teasing jabs. 

Then, at last, Splinter said, “Teams. _Kaishi.”_

They launched into activity, Leo and Mikey branching apart to close in around Raph and Donnie; Donnie leapt off Raph’s shell and used the higher net to get up and around Mikey, dropping behind him. A flurry of blows began, Mikey’s hard-trained muscle speed against Donnie’s lightning-quick mind. 

Almost at once, the net began to groan again; the brothers just as quickly leapt apart again, careful not to use too much force as they went. They soon worked out a kind of rhythm, watching one another’s positions so they knew where it was safe to stand and avoiding being too near one another. 

They were forced to use hit-and-run tactics, rarely fighting while actually standing on a chain because it was so easy to accidentally step on one someone else was already using and threaten the entire net. Their feet had to keep in motion, always moving from one line to another, which honestly made Mikey feel like a weird two-legged spider. 

Now Splinter’s choice for no weaponry made sense; Donnie and Leo would be dominating this battle with their extra reach, had they been allowed to keep their tools. Now they were all limited to their limbs’ actual lengths, which, yeah, Mikey kind of lamented. 

He was, after all, the shortest of his brothers. Lucky for him, then, that what he lacked in height he made up for in speed – Donnie might have an easy time reaching Mikey, but by the time his swipe had made its way over, Mikey was already gone. His brothers had to learn to guess where Mikey would be next, and thanks to his chaotic, no-thinking-ahead mind, they all had a hard time of that. 

The battle was still _far_ from easy, though; some of the chains were taut but others were more loose, leading to a lot of flailing and trips as the brothers discovered the give of each one. Some were even deceptive; Mikey grabbed for one that looked taut only to find it slack, throwing off his jump and sending him wheeling through the air for a moment. If not for Leo catching him, he might’ve already been dropped. 

And then there were the girls. Jo was laying it on – not just to Raph, either, but to all four of them. She was commenting, slinging insults and taunts, outright flirting, and equally distressing and pissing off Raphael. She was downright lewd, commenting on musculature and asses and letting the brothers know whenever one of them looked “sexy”. 

Lisa was _much_ more subdued – until she seemed to get an idea. Then she became the announcer, calling out the moves the guys were throwing, such as she could, successfully splitting their attention between who they were fighting and what someone else had just done. 

It was absolute _chaos_ , and yes, Mikey loved it. He lived for this kind of anarchy, heart pounding from adrenaline and energy suffusing everything in the vicinity. So much activity was flying around, made all the more chaotic thanks to the lack of solid footing, that _thinking_ became a luxury. 

No plans. No time. Just movement, focus, reflexes, fury – it was exactly the kind of thing Mikey did in his spare time for _fun._

Then Splinter called, “Swap!” 

Leo and Mikey had been shell-to-shell, deflecting blows from their brothers; on a dime, they switched, throwing elbows at one another instead. Leo got an arm around Mikey and tossed him; Mikey rebounded off the wall with a kick, launching right back at him and narrowly dodging a swipe from Donnie at Raph as he went. 

“Ooh, boy,” Jo was yelling, “work it! That’s it – _damn,_ Leo, who said you could look that good? Oh, _ouch_ , baby, did that hurt?” 

Lisa called, “A _fantastic_ kick by Don, excellent form – Raph is dazed! Don goes in for the finisher – ohh, perfect block by Raph! The fight continues! Oh, Leo’s distracted – is this the end?!” 

The chains, too, were an opponent, the brothers soon learned. A wrong move and a chain could be around a neck or ankle or shell, halting him and leaving a bruise behind. They had to factor that in, as well, each male’s concentration stretched so thin it was a wonder they could keep this going at all. 

In no time they learned how to use the upper set of chains to their advantage, but it was a difficult thing; none of the chains could hold more than one brother at a time, and their height was hard to reach, as well. More than once Mikey had to abandon his grab because one of his brothers snagged a chain first, and yes, he was fully aware that that was intentional most of the time. 

Thwarting one another’s moves was just as valid a tactic as a deflection or block. 

But that gave him an idea, and Mikey soon started to fight back by landing on or pulling on a chain one of his brothers were already using; they were forced to move or the chain would snap. And when they got the idea, figuring out what Mikey was doing, _they_ started doing it, too. 

Soon they were using the net’s instability – and their own weight – as another tactic. One chain snapped and dropped, then another and another; little by little their sparring ring was shrinking. Splinter called out another swap, then – to their disbelief – shut off the lights above. 

Silence descended, even the girls quieting. 

Only the ground was lit up anymore, and that vague amount of light made things exponentially more difficult. The brothers stopped where they were, each mind working out a map of the remaining chains and one another’s positions in the net. 

Mikey shifted. His chain rattled. A blow whizzed by his head, barely ducking in time; his return kick hit nothing but air. Everything went still again, no one daring to move. 

Then there was an audible _snap_ and the rattle of metal as another chain fell. A vibration went through the net, then another and another, as chains continued to break or come loose. 

This wasn’t a weight issue, Mikey realized; someone was systematically removing the chains. Someone stealthy enough to not rattle the chains as he worked. 

_Leo._

Well, two can play that game. Mikey darted to a wall, each step careful, and did the same. After all, he and Leo were on a team right now; he _should_ help his brother. Hooks and knots were undone, and from the following noise, Raph and Donnie had gotten the same idea. 

So much _clatter_ filled the tunnel, reverberating through his shell as chains started falling like rain. He became increasingly aware of how taut, how _weak_ , the remaining chains were, and he made a gamble when it felt like it was about to snap and leapt up, kicking off the wall and blindly reaching for the upper chains. 

_Got it._

Or not – the chain _snapped_ , and he flailed as his grasp suddenly held nothing of substance. By luck, he felt his feet hit something solid; not caring who or what it was, he leapt, throwing out another blind grab. 

A miracle – he caught another one, and this one didn’t break. He hauled himself up, hearing fleshy thuds as at least one of his brothers hit the ground with a grunt. 

The lights flashed back on, momentarily blinding him. Once he blinked the stars away, he looked around, getting his bearings. 

Only two chains from the original net remained, the rest in a pile on the ground. And – Donnie and Raph? Oh, _snap!_ Donnie was working on gathering the chains up, moving them aside. Splinter, however…was nowhere in sight. It took a moment to spot their father, now seated on a higher pipe above them; when had he gotten there?! 

He gave Mikey a nod. Pleased, the youngest looked back down from the rat, spotting Leo as his only opponent in the upper net. 

Smirking, Leo faced him and bowed, hand in fist – while doing the splits between two chains, yeah, but still. 

Mikey, balanced on one foot, returned it. Then they leapt at each other, ready to finish this. And he couldn’t help looking down once more, making sure Lisa was watching him. 

Jo was already tending to Raph, helping him find injuries and cooing at him, no longer interested in the fight now that her boyfriend was eliminated. Lisa, on the other hand, was wearing a huge, pleased grin, eyes riveted to Mikey. 

He kissed the air; she winced, smiling even harder. 

_This win’s for you,_ he thought, eyes returning to his opponent. He didn’t usually win, he admitted, but then, he’d never really _wanted_ to. When it came to this stuff, Mikey had always just wanted to have fun, and who cared if he was in last place or first? 

But this time…this time, he _wanted_ it. 

Absolutely focused, Mikey swung a fist, aiming for his brother’s jaw.


	24. Wet-Mop Cleanup

**Rating:**  XXX (swearing/sexual situations)

* * *

* * *

* * *

“That was  _amazing!”_  Lisa crowed, bouncing in place as Mikey dropped to the ground. 

Her excitement wasn’t just contagious, it was well-deserved. The one-on-one spar had been difficult, to say the least, lasting several minutes as the brothers leapt between chains and tried to one-up one another. 

But, ultimately, Mikey succeeded in his goal: he knocked Leo so hard his brother had been stunned just long enough to tumble through the net. He’d righted himself partway down, of course, landing on his feet, and for a moment the tunnel had been utterly silent as the event was processed by all occupants. 

Then Mikey had shot his fists in the air with a cheer and everyone else followed (sans Splinter, who’d just looked on with a pleased smile). Everyone was surprised, yes, but also  _pumped._  It wasn’t every day that Mikey won their spars, after all, so a bit of celebration was fitting. 

Now back on the ground, receiving pats and praises, Mikey cut through his brothers to reach Lisa. He didn’t pause to say anything; he just grabbed her, hauled her up to straddle him, and spun around with her. 

“Ah, geez,” Donnie sighed, though his grin said he was amused. 

“Completely ignored,” Raph said, gesturing wide. 

Chuckling, Jo tugged on his arm. “Ah, he deserves it, I’d say. Now c’mon, you promised me a back massage.” 

“Actually,” Raph shot back, “I promised ya a back massage if you made dinner first. So?” 

She pouted. 

Giving Donnie a look, Leo opened his mouth and pointed at the back of his throat in the universal sign of “gagging”. Donnie chortled, the two excusing themselves. 

Mikey and Lisa missed all of that, they were so wrapped up in one another. They just grinned and excitedly recounted the event to each other. 

“– _so_  freaking cool! Like that, that jump kick thing you did?! With the–” 

“–spin kick, yeah! You liked that? I could teach you!” 

“Oh god, no, I’d just mess up–” 

“–see the way Leo spun on the way down? Knocked his brain around–” 

“–I did!! Geez, you packing grenades in those arms or what?!” 

“Yeah – and flash grenades in my pants,” he agreed with a wink. 

“Oh, my god,” she whined, covering her face. Giggling, she shot back, “And Narcissus in your mouth.” 

“Whoa, hold up,” Jocelyn cut in from where she’d been massaging one of Raph’s blossoming bruises. “Was that a Greek reference just now?” 

Wincing, Lisa replied, “Uh, yeah? Why? I took Greek Mythology in school and all.” 

“I’m just surprised,” Jo told her. “My mom’s a Greek mythology encyclopedia, so I know a lot of random stuff, but I wasn’t expecting to hear any of that down here, y’know?” 

Raising a hand, Lisa retorted, “Sorry – I promise you won’t hear it from me ever again.” 

Jo and Mikey laughed; Raph rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Rude,” Jo chided, slapping his shoulder. He nudged her in return, making her stumble back a step. 

Already knowing where this was going to go, Mikey cut out, letting Lisa back on her feet and taking her hand to lead her away from what was soon to be a couple  _heavily_  making out. 

It was getting really late by now, the hours having breezed by. And though Mikey lamented that a good five or six hours of the day had been spent apart from Lisa, the remaining eight or so had been  _crazy_  fun. As they reentered the Lair, his eyes first and foremost latched onto her mural. 

He smiled. Just smiled, the sight of it pleasing him. Then, bringing up her hand, he kissed her fingers and asked, “D’you have time to stick around for dinner?” 

She was biting her lip from the cute gesture, and she smiled as she agreed, “For you, boo? Always.” 

Grinning, he led her to the kitchen and got to work. It didn’t take too long for Jo to join him, the pair of them going through their usual tasks (Mikey did any whisking, sniffing, taste-testing, and directed when to start or finish dishes and at which temperatures; Jo handled any and everything else that needed doing, including mixing, stirring, measuring, and so on). 

Their cooking teamwork, by now, was as tight as the turtles’ fighting teamwork. In no time dinner was done, delicious, and clean-up delegated to Donnie (since Mikey and Jo did the cooking, the others traded clean-up duties). Honestly, it was sad when everything was done – because that meant it was time to take Lisa home. 

He could have cried. 

Instead, he powered through his disappointment to make their parting cheery, cracking jokes and occasionally tickling her on the way back. She carried a single bag in one hand, he noticed, but she wouldn’t let him see what was inside; she just kept blushing and pulling it away whenever he started to give it a peek. 

Now he was even more curious. What was in there that she felt such a need to hide? He had to know! 

It was during this trek that she got a call and paused to check her phone. He expected it would be Sam again; surprised, she answered it with, “Hello? …This is her.” 

Intrigued, Mikey watched her expressions, getting a feel for the conversation between that and her side of the talk. It sounded business-y from the get-go, with her asking, “Wait – hold on, you want  _seven_  mixes?” 

Okay, what? She was getting commissioned? Starting to get excited, Mikey bounced a little, getting secondhand energy from her as she began pacing. 

With a dry laugh, she replied to the phone, “Hang on, let me get this straight – you want seven mixes for the Halloween week, one for each day? …Okay, well, you realize that’s a rush job, right?” 

They were in the last week of September now, Mikey thought; she had less than a month to complete seven mixes. That wasn’t exactly a generous timeframe. Sure, a driven DJ could make a mix in a day, but it was rare for those to be all that great – he had ample experience in  _that_  field. 

She chose then to meet Mikey’s gaze and give him an excited scream face, making him giggle, before turning her attention back to the phone. “Yeah, I can do it – but it ain’t gonna be cheap, my man.” 

Whatever the guy said annoyed her, because her face steadily went  _can you believe this?_  She cut in sharply, “No, you don’t get it – it usually takes me a week to make a mix. A full week. You’re asking for seven in three. That’s  _really_  pushing it. Had you called me, like, the start of the month, maybe – hey, hey. Dude. No interrupting. I’m telling you how it is, alright?” 

Whoa. Mikey was a little thunderstruck, hearing her talk like that; where had Mistress Backbone come from? He was so used to Lisa just kind of meekly agreeing to everyone that this threw him off. 

…And, honestly, he really liked it, too. This side of her made him weirdly…lusty. 

She rolled her eyes at whatever her commissioner was saying, then replied, “Okay, let’s back up a step. You’re asking for seven nights of work for me – during Halloween, one of the busiest nights of the year for a DJ. And that’s after I spend a month of my free time  _creating_  seven whole new mixes, just for you. I think charging overtime makes perfect sense in that context, don’t you?” 

Apparently whatever the guy said wasn’t agreeable, because she cut in with, “Yeah, three hundred a night is my usual – when I have ample time to make my mixes. You’ve cut my time in half, Louis. But I’ll tell you what – since I still have roughly a month, I’ll go with four nights at three hundred, then three nights at double.” 

At that, Mikey could  _hear_  Louis exploding, screaming into the receiver. Honestly, that made him want to take the phone and lay a verbal smack-down on this dude who thought he could take advantage of  _Mikey’s_  girl, but he never got the chance. Lisa was  _on it._  

Ignoring the screaming entirely, she worked out, “Three hundred for four nights, that’s – what, twelve hundred? Yeah. Then three nights, so six – nine hundred, at double, which is eighteen – you following? Great. So that’s twelve and eighteen, um…thirty? Yeah, thirty. Three grand, Louis – that’s my price.” 

The screaming started up again, and, irritated, Lisa snapped, “Louis! Look,  _you_  called  _me_  – you wanted me and my mixes. That’s on you. As a freelancer, I get to name whatever prices I want, and you either pay it or find someone else. So what’s it gonna be?” 

 _God_ , she’d turned into a freaking warrior, Mikey thought. After seeing her like this – stubborn, sure-footed and confident – he wanted her to stay like this forever. Sure, he’d miss her cute lip-biting and wincing and  _definitely_  her blushing, but he knew he could find other ways to get those reactions out of her. 

It was merely a question of time and persistence. 

Tisking now, she asked, “You’re asking me to do a month of overtime, Louis. You get that? I have a full-time job. To do this, I’ll have to work on your mixes every free second of every day for a  _month_. I won’t have time for anything else.” As she said this, she gave Mikey puppy eyes, and it hit him. 

If she took this job, she wouldn’t have time to come see him for a  _month._  Suddenly he didn’t care about the huge payday down her road; he almost wanted to cancel it  _for_  her at this point. 

He’d make it up to her somehow. 

“How much would you pay your employees for that kind of work?” she went on. Then, after a pause, she denied, “No – you’re right, I’m not on your payroll. But, hey, you ever hear that one quote – there’s three kinds of quality: fast, good, and cheap? You can only pick two? Well, Louis, fast work good isn’t gonna be cheap. Three grand – I’m not budging on this. Now yes or no?”

There was a moment of silence. Then, with a dry laugh, she replied, “Really, dude? Whatever.” She hung up, stuffed the phone back in her pocket, then gave Mikey a grin. 

“How’d it go?” he demanded, bouncing in place. 

“He needs to ‘check his books’ – but I betcha he’ll be calling me back real soon,” she told him. With a squeal, she declared, “Three thousand moolah!!” 

Cheering, Mikey swept her up in his arms and spun around with her, excited on her behalf. It didn’t last long, though; soon he was pouting, recalling the dry spell ahead of them. 

She went from gleeful to somber pretty quick, reacting to his shifting emotions. “Aww, don’t gimme that face,” she whined, pinching his cheeks. “It’ll go by before you know it.” 

“Before  _you_  know it,” he pointed out, rubbing at his slightly sore cheeks. “You’ll have work to do. I have every afternoon totally open.” 

“Aww – why not invite your cousins over every day I’m gone, instead of just Thursdays?” 

He chortled, that callback tickling him. “Nah, they’ll just spend the whole time trying to convert me. It’s super irritating. They just don’t get it – I don’t wanna be Christian, I’m happy being gamer-ian.” 

“Skateboardian?” Lisa offered. 

“Hip-hopian,” he corrected, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one.” 

“All hail our Lord and Savior, Nelly?” she chuckled. 

“Tupac,” Mikey told her. “He died for our genre.” 

“Ouch, too soon.” 

Sobering, he said, “Seriously, though, that was really sad.” 

Face pinching, she agreed, “Yeah, poor guy. Totally didn’t deserve that end.” 

They were both quiet for a moment, thinking about Tupac, before shaking out of it. Then Mikey led her onwards, eventually delivering her back home. And while they hung around as per usual, unwilling to part, he couldn’t help thinking of their little  _playtime_  the previous afternoon. 

Unable to stop it, his eyes fell to her chest. God, he wanted to see – and touch – her breasts so bad. Now the question was how to make it happen. 

Time was the biggest factor, he thought; Lisa needed it to get over her lifetime of negativity. But what else? Would laying on the compliments help, or just irritate her? What about more trysts, more orgasms? Surely that’d do nothing but good, right? 

Suddenly his mind seized on the idea of getting a titjob from her and holy  _shit_  he was hard as a rock in a heartbeat. 

Of course, she noticed where his gaze had gone. Shifting, she impulsively started to cover herself – then stopped, forcibly making her arms drop again. 

At that moment, lust fell by the wayside. In its place, Mikey just felt pride – pride in Lisa, in how much she fought to overcome her fears. She’d made incredible strides over the last day, he thought, and he felt a need to reward her for that. 

Stepping in, he tugged her against him and dipped his head to kiss her as his arms circled her. She responded so sweetly, hands lifting to his neck in feather-light touches. 

He lingered as long as he could, just giving her light, gentle kisses. Then, drawing back his head a bit, he told her, “You’re amazing, angel. You’re smart, fun, creative, and stronger than you realize. Don’t ever forget it.” 

She ducked her head, biting her lip on a smile. “Y-you’re silly, Mikey.” 

“Well, yeah,” he agreed easily, “but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Lisa, hey,” he prompted, lifting her chin to hold her gaze ( _good god_  she had the prettiest eyes), “can you say it for me? ‘I’m smart, fun, creative and strong.’” 

When she hesitated, he pressed, “C’mon, you totally just steamrolled that Louis dude. Laid him the f– uh, laid him out. You shoulda heard yourself, it was so badass. Now,” he told her, “say it.” 

Lisa looked increasingly uncomfortable as he spoke, coming to blush and shift from foot to foot in awkward sways. Now, face red as hell, she murmured, “I-I’m smart, creative, fun and whatever. Okay?” 

No, not okay. Holding her chin, he coached, “I’m smart, fun, creative, and strong.” 

Her second attempt was even worse, the words faltering. 

“Pretend I’m Louis and I just said something stupid about DJing,” Mikey directed. “Now tell me off.” 

 _That_  made her grin, more amused than shy. And though her voice was subdued and mousy, she still said clearly, “I’m smart, fun, creative and strong.” 

Hearing her say that final word, alone, thrilled him. She was getting it! Growing excited, he prompted, “Again!”

She snorted. “What are you, five?”

Rolling with it, he mimicked a child’s voice, saying, “Again, again!” 

Giggling, she repeated, “Okay, okay – I’m smart, fun, creative and strong. Happy?” 

“Yup!” She laughed, giving him a playful shove; in retaliation, he pulled her against him and started tickling her. 

As she squealed and convulsed, fighting to free herself, Mikey was struck by just how much he loved her – and how lucky he was to have her. Yeah, it’d be sad having to spend so much time away from one another during the next month (provided she got the call-back, which he was sure she would), but considering she would be performing a service she enjoyed and everyone else would appreciate, it wasn’t so bad. 

Decided, he told himself to not pout or complain ( _too_  much) and instead support her throughout the journey. He’d text her all the time and have as many calls as he could, and that would have to be enough. 

Hopefully he scent would linger in his room long enough to get him through the dry spell; if not, heck, he could always come to her apartment. He’d been meaning to scope it out, anyway – he’d already found the floor plan of the place (it was _tiny_ , way too small for two occupants) and now he wanted to see it in person. 

Maybe he’d surprise her sometime…

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Louis accepted Lisa’s terms. She even got him to give her weekly down-payments to prove he wasn’t going to back out or stiff her, paying her three hundred per the first three weeks, then her usually three hundred a night for the final week as her usual fare. 

Sam had been _thrilled_  when she told him about this, cheering and throwing his arms around her in a tight hug. Mikey, too, had been happy, but they’d only been able to talk over the phone; she knew he’d be cuddling and kissing the crap out of her if she’d been in arm’s reach. 

Instead, he settled for reminding her how “smart, fun, creative and strong” she was. 

The _jerk._  He was just going to keep doing that, wasn’t he? She hadn’t even gotten over the way he’d made her say that yet and he was already doing it again, less than a day later. 

She didn’t have the time to just sit around and trade flirts and teases, so she just replied, “Yeah, whatever you say, honeybee,” and hung up. 

A text immediately reached her:

[i knew that wuld stick!! 😆😉😉😙]

Oh, had he, then? Snickering, she put her phone aside, cracked her knuckles, and got to work. 

Louis clearly had no idea what went into DJing, hence his arguing with her over her pricing; she legit wouldn’t have time to relax over the coming weeks. Heck, she wouldn’t even have time to decide on her Halloween outfit, but she could forgive that. She didn’t _need_  to dress up – though she should do something about her hair, she thought. 

It was getting long and the bright colors had faded, most of it washing out. She was left with pale blonde locks with rich brown roots growing in. Maybe it was time to dye it back to its normal shade? And she certainly needed to trim up her forelock; it was getting irritating to deal with, always falling in her eye and tickling her chin. 

Putting all that aside for the time being, she started hunting. Copyrights were a big hurdle, so she looked for those first and foremost as she looked up Halloween-themed music. There were a ton of mixes already made, unsurprisingly (she’d made one or two, herself, but they weren’t ‘new’ and were kind of bad anyway) so one thing she did was listen to those, too. 

This tactic helped in two ways: giving her ideas, and outlining what was already popular or overdone. Hopefully this would help her create some new, fun types of mixes. 

After getting some thoughts, she started making notes for all seven sets. This was just the start, though; all seven would probably end up getting tweaked until the very last day. 

Which was Louis’ fault, of course – normally she’d have a mix done ahead of time, but with her short deadline she just didn’t have that luxury. Utilizing every tool available to her, she even ripped apart her previous mixes to lay some groundwork for her new ones. 

Time started _flying_  by. To no one’s surprise she ended up getting so wrapped up in her new creations that she had to set an alarm on her phone to let her know when to go to bed, thanks to a week straight of nodding off at her desk as the hours kept ticking by later and later. 

For the sake of getting this done on time, she informed Gil that she’d be ignoring the song recordings until after Halloween. He agreed – with the stipulation that she get him copies of her mixes once she was done so he could listen to them. 

She did him one better and told him that since Louis didn’t explicitly say she couldn’t play the mixes elsewhere, she’d let Gil play them in the shop, as well. 

Mikey missed her like crazy, she discovered. He sent her texts near-constantly, leading to her having to read a flood of comments as she climbed into bed every night (which, to be honest, she loved). He also begged her to call him whenever she could, so she did; most of the time she managed this during work when things were slow, other times during little breaks or right as she got into bed for a quick “good night”. 

He whined a lot – like, _a lot_  a lot – about not having her around and how much he wanted her backin his reach. He even started laying on dirty talk, which was both a little overwhelming and _really_  hot. Telling her how much he’d loved touching her, feeling her, making her come, then making promises about what he was totally going to do once they were together again (he talked a lot about what he wanted to do with his mouth, she’d learned)…

It was thrilling in a way she’d never known before, and though she often remained quiet when he talked to her like that, a part of her _really_  liked it. She masturbated a lot thanks to that. 

God, the pictures he painted in her mind… 

Her favorite one so far? He laid out, step by step, how he’d strip her, kiss her all over, lavish her breasts with kisses and pets, then move down between her legs to lick her to orgasm. He told her he wanted to end that one by humping her tits until he came, covering her breasts in his cum. 

 _Wet-mop clean up, aisle ten…_  

She wasn’t sure her nerves would let her actually do any of that with him when they finally met up again, but damn if the idea didn’t seduce the hell out of her. 

Finding fitting spooky songs for her mixes was, as predicted, Lisa’s biggest hurdle, but though she had people she could ask for help, this time she considered it a pride thing. She could finish this on her own – she _could_ , she just needed to keep her ears open and her head focused. 

And, little by little, it was working. She had every available program open as she stitched the songs together and listened to replays of them, sometimes listening to a specific few seconds on repeat to make sure it worked. Her notebook, too, was getting _full,_  the notes soon taking up two, then four, then eight pages. 

But where someone else would probably find this endless work exhausting, Lisa instead felt increasing excitement. To the untrained eye (or ear) she was barely making any progress, but to her, she was ahead of schedule. It was all coming together, the pieces falling into place by the hour. 

She couldn’t be more pleased.

* * *

By a miracle (in the sense that she’d worked her fingers to the bone for a whole month) Lisa completed her mixes a day ahead of time. She kind of wanted to drop by and surprise Mikey but she wasn’t sure she could sneakily manage that – at first. Then, thinking of Jocelyn, she called up the other woman and set up a meeting. 

Lisa’s work let out at the same time as Jo’s dance school, after all, so they had that perfect. Then Lisa just waited for Jo to come pick her up – on a motorcycle, and yes, Lisa had forgotten about that until Jo showed up. For safety’s sake, Jo made Lisa wear the helmet, and then off they went. 

Luckily New York’s near-constant bumper-to-bumper traffic meant they couldn’t really go fast enough to crash, so they had that in their favor. And, to be honest, Lisa found riding a motorcycle _super_  thrilling; she might just have to ask for recreational rides sometime… 

Theit tactic totally worked. No one had any idea Lisa was coming, and when she showed up with Jocelyn (Raph was the first to notice) they hushed him, giving winks. Chuckling, he rolled with it, turning his attention to his lover as Lisa snuck by. 

She had to hush Donnie, too, catching him mid-greeting with quieting gestures. She mouthed ‘where’s Mikey’ and got directed to the skate room. Perfect. 

Sneaking as quietly as she could (Mikey had given her a few lessons and she was using them right that second), she kept out of sight of the doorway as she moved, carefully peeking around the corner when she got close enough. 

But she didn’t see him in there; had he gone to his room? 

Suddenly arms banded around her and she _screamed_ , then doubled over laughing as her boyfriend nuzzled into her. Honestly, she should’ve known better than to try to sneak up on a ninja, but she couldn’t regret it – not while she was dying with laughter, anyway. 

Maybe later. 

“Jesus Christ!” she giggled, struggling to catch her breath. Mikey was grinning, pleased with himself, and she could hear him churring, too. 

Pointing at himself, he corrected, “Michelangelo.” 

She snortled (a snort and chortle at the same time). “Well, my heart almost leapt through my ribs, so thanks, Michelangelo.” 

“Just makin’ sure you’re still alive and kickin’,” he defended, still refusing to let go of her. Growing a little more serious, he confessed, “Missed ya.” 

Her body was giving tiny quivers thanks to how badly he’d startled her, but after that she couldn’t be cross with him. Instead, she turned to hug him tight, arms linking around his neck. They shared an almost rough, how’ve-you-been kind of kiss, thrilled to be back together again. 

“Me, too,” she said as the kiss ended. “Did I surprise you?” 

Grinning, he admitted, “Yeah – you might’ve got me, but I smelled you coming.” 

She poked his nose. “ _So_  unfair,” she complained. 

“Yeah, well, turtle genes – whatcha gonna do?” he shrugged. 

“Complain more?” she suggested. 

He chuckled. “Trade ya if I could,” he told her. “Some things, man…” He messed up his face and stuck out his tongue, clearly displaying how gross some things were to smell. 

But she couldn’t think of that right then – her eyes latched onto his tongue, dumbfounded. He’d stuck out his tongue before, but she could _swear_  it never looked that long before. 

Catching on to her stun, he commented, “That’s right – I never showed you!” 

Never showed her _what?!_  

As her stun lingered, he winked, saying, “I have a really… _really_  gifted tongue.” 

 _Oh, my god,_  was all she could think. 

Then he extended his tongue again and her mind blanked. 

 _No way…_  

That was like…longer than her fingers! She could hardly process what she was seeing, it was so sudden and so…shocking. And then he freaking _looped_  it, bringing the tip to touch the middle, and her mind jumped head-first into the gutter. 

 _Wet-mop clean up, aisles four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten…_  

Now that she was seeing first-hand how big and dextrous his tongue was, her fantasies took a turn for the worst – best? Either way, they rewrote themselves, her visions of him kissing and licking her body suddenly becoming a lot more intense. 

A quiver went through her that had nothing to do with her scare. 

Taking full advantage of her stun, he kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She moaned at once, loving the taste and feel of him. And then he did something he never had before: he curled his tongue around hers, his reach such that he could almost complete a loop. 

She almost dropped on the spot, her knees got so weak; if he wasn’t holding her so tight she would be on the floor right then. And though she felt totally overwhelmed from the move, a tiny part of her mind asked and answered a question: 

Why hadn’t he ever done that before? 

Because she couldn’t handle it and he knew it. 

Drawing back (and looking _so_  god damn sexy, holy shit), he teased, “So, wanna take this to my room?”

He probably expected her to turn him down – it was her usual decision, after all – but after that, plus his recent dirty talk? Yeah, no way she _wasn’t_  taking him up on that offer. 

“Uh-huh,” she agreed, still a little too dazed for full words right then. 

Mikey was visibly surprised by that; then, on a dime, he grinned, pivoted, and led her through the Lair by the hand and to his room. She was shaking with anticipation as he yanked the curtain closed, barely able to wait long enough for it to grant them (visual) privacy before she practically jumped on him. 

He hissed into her kiss, whining, “Damn, girl, you smell so good…”

Did she? Grinning, she sucked on his botom lip, then hungrily went in for more of that delicious tongue of his. A part of her marveled at how well they mirrored each other – he loved her tongue, she loved his – as they kissed, their hands starting to wander. 

She couldn’t help the way her hands slid down his sides to his waistband, feeling where the muscles at the edge of his plastron vanished into his shorts. She’d always found those particular little dips extra sexy, she’d just never had the guts to touch him like this before. 

He noticed, shuddering at her touch, then reached down, seized her by the rear, and pulled her up against him. He walked forward, and when she realized he was aiming for the bed, a thread of panic hit her. 

 _Not there, not yet,_  that panic said. 

Breaking the kiss, she gasped, “W-wait, not the bed – okay?” 

He stopped, hesitating, and she could see his mind working on the puzzle of where else they could go. In unison, they both glanced at the beanbag, then back at one another. 

Right then he didn’t need her approval and she didn’t need to give it; they were synced. He took the few steps necessary to reach the huge bag and fell back on it, a hand reaching up to her cheek to pet as he started kissing her again. 

Now that she knew what his tongue was capable of, every stroke with it made her shiver regardless of what he did with it right then. And it made her feel ravenous, wanting – _needing_  – something. 

She wasn’t attuned enough with her needs to hazard a guess as to what, exactly, that ‘something’ was, but she quickly found that shifting against him helped. He was petting her all along her back, hips and thighs, and she felt him hesitate and stop every time he started to reach around to her front. 

Wanting her breasts but not letting himself touch her without her permission. 

Aiming to help him out with that, she sat up, yanked off her hoodie (it was a zipperless kind, so it went over her head) and dove back in for more of that mouth of his. By now she was trying to go without binders more often and hadn’t worn one today, yet after all this foreplay her breasts felt kind of sore anyway. 

Like…like she _needed_  his touch. 

In between kisses laced with moans, he asked, “Lisa, can I–?” 

“Y-yeah,” she replied, having such a hard time _not_  kissing him right then that she could only manage one-word statements. 

His hands went right to her front, staying on top of her shirt but clearly unable to resist. And as his large hands palmed her breasts, giving them a firm squeeze, a pleasured cry escaped her, her hips grinding hard against him in reaction – and holy _shit_  that felt amazing. 

Not only because of the sensation, but because she could so clearly feel how hard he was from the move, too. Catching him by the face and driven by a totally selfish need to finish herself off, she started grinding intentionally as she continued to kiss him and moan in ecstasy. 

Mikey was little better, lost to his own needs as his hands kept petting her. He shifted in place, braced his feet, and thrust up against her as she came down, ripping a shudder out of her. 

Feeling hot, dizzy, and lost to the throbbing in her nethers, Lisa let go of any lingering inhibitions, letting her body drive her actions. It took hardly a handful of grinds for her to lose her mind, going from kissing her boyfriend to panting and gasping against his neck as her hips worked against him. 

It was an incredible feeling, surges and waves of electric pleasure pulsing through her with each pass and compounded by his continued massages of her breasts. If she seemed weak to her needs right then, it’s because she was; she couldn’t seem to _think_  anymore, she was so lost. 

Soon her motions turned frantic, so close she could feel her abs tensing to rock. She sat up, bracing her hands on his knees behind her, and let loose – his hands never ceased touching her, his hips never ceased meeting her grinds, and she caught him jolting and shuddering when she could peel her eyes open for long enough. 

Good _god_  that was sexy. 

The pleasure that crashed into her a moment later took her by surprise; it was everything she could do to clench her jaw shut, but even that couldn’t stop the hungry whimper she gave as her body convulsed in orgasm. She couldn’t move anymore, her body locking down, but Mikey clearly didn’t like that. 

He grabbed her hips to make her keep grinding on him, and the first wash of sensation thanks to that tore a cry from her, her whole body jolting. She braced her hands on his shoulders as she fought to follow him with what focus she had left, but each thrust was too much, overwhelming her with sharp, electric pleasure. 

Lisa collapsed on him, shaking and jolting as his motions refused to let her orgasm end. Whimpering, she rode out the lingering waves until he finally stopped, heaving for breath under her. A thread of amusement hit her as she realized he was breathing so hard it was lifting her up, but that faded as she started to come back down from her high. 

Holy hell, had that just happened?! Stunned, she replayed the last few minutes in her head and was surprised to recall how wanton she’d been, grinding and thrusting against him with their freaking clothes still on. 

With a squeak of embarrassment she turned her face more fully into his shoulder, hiding there. 

Her boyfriend gave a soft laugh. “Okay,” he breathed, still calming, “if that’s the reward for being without you for a month, I’ll take seconds.” 

A weak giggle was her response.


	25. Halloween DJ

**Rating:** R (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Why d’you always wear this?” Lisa asked, toying with the tails of her boyfriend’s mask. 

Post-orgasm and post-clean up (he’d had her go first, using the bathroom to mop up the spill in her panties, then did so himself – with a change of shorts in hand), they were relaxed and enjoying one another’s presence for the time being. She’d reclined in his lap, reached up, found the cloth draped over his shoulders, and simply voiced her thoughts. 

“Well, you see, they’re terribly comfortable,” he told her seriously. “I think everyone ought to be wearing them in the future.” 

She chuckled, amused. “Seriously though, is there like a sentimental reason or something?” 

“Kind of an honor thing, really. Dad gave us these when we sorta earned ‘em, ninja-training and all.” Then, curious, he asked, “You didn’t get that reference?” 

Confused, she tilted her head back to see him. “What reference?” 

Surprised, he gaped at her. “You didn’t!” he declared, shocked. “The thing I said about the mask? That’s a movie reference. Princess Bride.” 

Okay…? “And?” she prompted, having no idea what he was talking about. 

There was a beat of silence; then he told her, “We’re watching it. Right now.” To her surprise, he actually nudged her up so he could rise, took her hand, and led her through the Lair to the living room – the only place with a DVD player. 

Wow, he was _serious_  about this, she realized. “Is it good?” she asked, still working through her surprise; she’d had no idea he could get so worked up over a film. 

“Only the best,” he answered, going straight to their DVD collection to fish through it. It took him barely a second to crow, “Aha!” and display the box for her. 

She tilted her head. It showed a couple mirrored over the title in the middle, [clearly a flippable box](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpisces.bbystatic.com%2Fimage2%2FBestBuy_US%2Fimages%2Fproducts%2F8474%2F8474652_sa.jpg%3BmaxHeight%3D640%3BmaxWidth%3D550&t=ODMwNjJlNDc0Y2MzMmJmNzQ3NDliYmU2MDc4YmZiMTA5MWJiYjg0ZiwxdmtFWWEwWA%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178069848024%2Fthe-dj-part-25&m=0), with the brand “20th anniversary edition” on both the top and bottom. It was pretty neat, really. She liked the way “Princess Bride” was written. 

Still a little stunned, she ventured, “Okay…?” 

She couldn’t quite tell if Mikey was annoyed or excited; either way he had her sit down, put the movie in, and joined her with a hop on the couch. Unsurprisingly, he pulled her right into his lap, arms banding around her, and more or less held her hostage for the following two hours. 

It was an incredible journey. Lisa recognized the lead male – Cary Elwes – from _Robin Hood: Men in Tights,_ but hadn’t known he’d been in romantic comedies. And the comedy did its job well; she laughed _a lot_  over the course of the movie. 

As a rule, Lisa never watched romantic movies. She stuck with comedy, music, dance, adventure, and anime – thanks to her rough teen years she’d totally skipped all cheesy romance films to avoid any uncomfortable yearning. Now that she had Mikey, though, she found the genre _much_  more agreeable and was happy to sit and watch such things with him. 

It didn’t take long for her to get absorbed into the movie, though she still noticed a few instances of her boyfriend getting choked up or hugging her tighter. Honestly, she couldn’t blame him; there was a lot of emotion in this movie – a lot more than it seemed at the start. 

And, at the end, she was tearing up, too. Ugh, man, if she was reacting this way to a feel-good film, she should probably never watch Titanic. She knew how it ended thanks to its popularity and she did _not_  want to get invested in a doomed relationship. 

The film’s genre, alone, was a surprise. Usually when they watched TV it was either Adult Swim, Cartoon Network, or a newer adventure-comedy film – or YouTube. Cyanide and Happiness was a frequent stop for them. 

They’d never watched a romance _anything_ before (Pirates of the Caribbean didn’t count). 

As the credits rolled, Mikey shifted, hugging her closer as he nuzzled into her neck. It tickled, making her squirm and giggle. 

“So?” he prompted, clearly fishing for compliments. “What’d you think?” 

“I think…” she started, trailing off intentionally to tease him. She put on a thoughtful expression, humming to herself in an obvious I’m-not-really-thinking-at-all way, and let him dangle there for a while. 

It took a few moments. Then, getting his fingers in her ribs, he declared, “You loved it!” as she started yelping and fighting against his tickle attack. 

Yeah, she did – but if he was going to try and tickle the admission out of her, then she wasn’t going to say it. Wriggling and laughing hysterically, she managed to twist far enough to get her fingers into _his_  ribs, and then it became a _fight_. Shrieks, spasms and wild kicks became all they could do as they fought to get the upper hand. 

He won when he got her on her back, wrists caught in one big hand. Unable to defend herself, she cried, “Uncle, uncle! I l-loved it, I swear!” 

By now she’d been laughing so hard she’d cried, tears tracking down her aching cheeks and her stomach hurting from the constant laughter. When Mikey finally stopped, letting her catch her breath, she instantly went limp. 

Jesus, why did she feel like she’d been working out for the last seven months after every tickle fight? It was _ridiculous_. 

He let her up, giving her apology cuddles as she recovered. 

Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “So whatcha gonna be for Halloween?” 

She hadn’t had time to plan that, actually. “Dunno. I’ll grab like a taco costume or something, I guess.” 

“Aww, that’s no fun,” he pouted. 

“Yeah, well, whatcha gonna do? I didn’t have time to get anything.” Working for the entirety of October kind of put a heavy cramp on her life, after all. Then, curious, she asked, “What about you?” 

Grinning, he answered, “I’m going as Bumblebee.” 

Bumblebee? She had to give that some thought; then, surprised, she checked, “From Transformers?” 

She swore his grin somehow got bigger. “Yep!” 

Sitting up, she gave him a sideways look. “You have the costume already?” 

Nodding, he eagerly got up and led her away. Surprised, she found herself getting led to the weights room (it was vacant right then), and was shocked to find four costumes on stands just sitting there against an open wall. 

One was an orange-and-black Bumblebee suit, and the other four were a large set of **[sci-fi armor](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpre00.deviantart.net%2Ffff6%2Fth%2Fpre%2Ff%2F2015%2F092%2F6%2F7%2Fspace_marine_from_starcraft_by_mixjoe-d8o36r4.jpg&t=ZjY3ZGRlZDY1MWJmM2IwYTJmMDIzM2MzOTQxMmY5MTJkMTQwMTliMiwxdmtFWWEwWA%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178069848024%2Fthe-dj-part-25&m=0)** , a Chewbacca suit, a **[Predator](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fstatic.comicvine.com%2Fuploads%2Foriginal%2F11124%2F111246824%2F4947017-hot-toys-alien-vs-predator-avp-scar-predator-sixth-scale-figure-30.jpg&t=Mzg2YTY1MzFmYTFlMTc2YzE0Mzk1NjJhY2YyMDk2M2QwMmMxYTUzMywxdmtFWWEwWA%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178069848024%2Fthe-dj-part-25&m=0)** costume, and a gothic ballerina outfit. They looked amazing, too, leaving her in awe. 

“You guys make these?” she asked, coming over to examine them more closely. The detail was incredible! 

“Half and half,” he told her. “Jo bought a lot of stuff for us, an’ we stitched ‘em as needed. Guess who’s who,” he prompted, grinning. 

That wasn’t hard. The suit of armor was _huge_ , so she pointed and said, “Raph.” 

Mikey’s chuckle told her she was right. 

The Chewbacca set was both really tall and _really_  geeky; she declared, “Donnie.” Of course the tutu was Jocelyn’s; it went without say. That left the Predator outfit as Leo’s, and to be honest, she could see that. He definitely had the build for it – and the personality. 

Serious, lethal, stealthy, and silent? Oh, yeah, definitely Leo. The Predators even had a very rigid moral code and sense of honor, or so the movies implied. Who else could match that as well as Leo? 

Concerned over how they were going to hide their shells, though, she glanced behind the stands to see what they had figured out for that. Mikey and Raph would have _no_  trouble, she thought, considering they both had giant robotic suits, but for Donnie and Leo? 

She quickly found that the **[Chewbacca](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Ffarm5.static.flickr.com%2F4034%2F4548785931_1b2e96479b.jpg&t=NTdlMmI3MTE2NTkzMjUxOTViMzI2NjMxOGRjZWM0MTU4NzcwOTVkNiwxdmtFWWEwWA%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178069848024%2Fthe-dj-part-25&m=0)** suit had a C-3PO on the back, a brilliant move on Donnie’s part. And the Predator costume had a (fake) big sack of human skulls in a mesh net, more of a coat than anything else from the look of it, big enough to hide Leo’s shell and hint at his _efficiency_  as a trophy hunter. 

“Okay,” she said, turning to Mikey, “this is _way_  too cool. My mom’s been doing cosplay costumes for years and can’t do that good. You guys are crazy,” she told him. 

Mikey preened, shifting and fluffing his mask tails with an incorrigible grin. “We may not have all the tools for makin’ clothes, but we have a sewing machine and creativity,” he replied. “…And Jo,” he added after a second of thought. 

She smiled; then, curious, she asked, “Did you guys dress up last year, too?” 

He snorted, admitting, “Yeah – we got a bunch of the blow-up T-Rex suits. In our colors,” he added, proud. 

Lisa’s smile faded, a memory rising to the fore. **[A squad of T-Rexes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195702/chapters/40432886)** , one orange, one blue, one red, one violet…walking down the street…a group of aggressive boys trailing after her and her friend…a rescue laced with sass…

“That was you?” she whispered, stunned. 

Mikey’s grin slipped, too. Surprised, he asked, “Wait, you saw us?” 

Patting her chest, she blurted, “I was the cat those clown dudes were harassing!” 

Eyes wide, he yelled, “That was you?!” 

“That was me!” she confirmed, laughing. “The witch was my friend Lexa – we were on our way to see the haunted house!” 

Thrilled, Mikey came up and hugged her, declaring, “That’s amazing – we met before we met!” 

Returning the hug, she took a moment to ponder on the insanity of this discovery. With how big New York was, it was crazy to think they’d met before, even if only briefly and in costume – yet they had! He’d even flirted, if she recalled correctly. 

That _ham._  

Then, withdrawing, he pressed, “Hey, still have that costume?” 

Confused, she ventured, “Yeah, why?” 

“Bet we could do something with it,” he told her with a wink. 

Face flushing, she denied, “Oh, no – you just wanna make it sexy!” 

“I wanna make it worthy of you – so, yes, sexy,” he agreed. 

She snorted. “I am _not_  sexy,” she argued. 

Giving her a serious look, he told her, “You made me cream jeans, Lisa. You’re sexy.” 

Well, geez, when he put it like _that…_  

Uncomfortable and flustered from the comment, she shifted, checking, “W-well, what would you do with it?” 

“I dunno, add some accents ‘n stuff,” he offered, shrugging. “Hafta get my hands on it to really know. I bet Jo could help with that,” he added, thoughtful. 

Oh, god. Was he getting ideas? She couldn’t decide if that was good or bad – knowing him, though, it was a mix of both. 

Then, as a thought hit her, she winced. “Actually, it might be too late for that…I got shows all next week, remember? If I’m gonna dress up and whatever, I’ll miss a day.” 

Mikey was giving her a look like she’d missed something. Smiling at her, he hinted, “We stay up all night, Lisa. It’s not hard to make changes when there’s four of us and a whole day to get stuff done.” 

“With an hour less for travel time,” she pointed out. 

“Then let’s get started,” he prompted, gesturing the doorway. 

Wow. He was super serious about this, wasn’t he? Well, whatever, she thought; if he wanted to stay up all night sewing stuff to her costume – 

Oh. Wait. She forgot one crucial detail: the jumpsuit was designed to work with a binder. Without it, it’d be constrictive and make her job at the venue all the more difficult. 

How funny that she’d gotten so used to going without a binder that the prospect of wearing it had become _distasteful_. Once upon a time, it’d been a relief whenever she woke up early enough to put it on; it had been the first thing she put on every morning. 

Now she didn’t want them anymore. How had she dealt with how much it constricted her breath and itched and overheated her and made her breasts ache? How had she ever deemed all that an acceptable side effect? 

Snapping back into the present, she ventured, “Actually, I really should just get something new. That old cat suit is, uh…well – it _will_  be too tight.” 

Tilting his head, Mikey gave her a smile; confused, she asked, “Uhh, what? Is my fly down?” 

He chortled. Then, quite serious, he answered, “Just thinkin’ how proud I am of you.” 

That brought her up short. “Proud?” she echoed, baffled. 

“Yeah. You used to say you _had_ to have a binder – now you don’t want ‘em. It’s…I dunno, it makes me happy,” he told her with a little pleased wiggle. 

Oh, geez. Of _course_ he’d have picked up on her emotions again; he was a freaking emotional bloodhound. Feeling her cheeks heat, she turned away, declaring, “Y-yeah, so what? Opinions change and whatever. Besides…I didn’t realize how much I hated ‘em until I stopped wearing ‘em,” she finished, solemn. 

She heard no movement, but suddenly he was hugging her, arms banded around her waist. He nuzzled into her hair, sending goosebumps racing down her left side and making her wriggle from the ticklish sensation. 

“Well…you never need to wear ‘em again,” he promised. Then, thoughtful, he added, “Maybe you could donate them to Raph. Guy has some serious boobage issues.” 

She laughed, unable to stop a series of visions of Raphael wearing a binder, his pecs utterly flattened. 

She doubted it would work, even if they could find a binder big enough to get around his shell, but _good lord_ it was a funny picture. 

“That’s gotta be one of the most ridiculous things you’re ever said… _hee,”_ she replied, having to pause for a moment to remember where they were in their nickname game. 

She was _pretty_ sure they were at H-I. 

Chuckling, he shot back, “Nah, I’ve said way crazier stuff… _h–”_

He cut himself off before he could get to the vowel, both of them realizing at once what the next one was. They shared a look, then burst out laughing. 

“O-okay,” she told him, “free skip.” 

“Thanks, hoo,” he giggled. 

* * *

Mikey got his way. Right then, nothing could’ve made him happier. 

He got Jocelyn to participate in his plan, too, though he’d had to interrupt a passionate moment between her and his brother. Raph was pissed about that, but once Mikey explained what he wanted Jo for, she was all too happy to join in. Raph had no choice but to let her Jo, postponing…whatever it was they’d been doing. 

Mikey had spotted a pile of belts on the bed and that was all he _wanted_ to see. 

Since Lisa claimed she’d need a need costume, Jo took her out to hunt up supplies. At first Lisa was doubtful about their chances of success; then Jo told her, “This is New York. If you can’t find what you’re lookin’ for, it doesn’t exist,” and Lisa warmed up to the idea. 

Halloween being eight days away, there was still plenty to pick from; Mikey got a slew of texts and pics from both girl as they shopped around. They posed with various kinds of masks, gloves, capes and the like. It was adorable. 

They were gone until long after dark. By the time they got back, his girlfriend was looking exhausted, but neither he nor Jocelyn let her go just yet. First they went through the trouble of making a duct-tape mannequin for Lisa while talking accessories (she looked amused as hell as Mikey and Jo tossed ideas back and forth), and _then_ they let her go. 

They decided she would stay the night since they’d probably physically need her all day tomorrow, so Lisa went to sleep – _in–his–bed!_ Jo stayed up a little while later, working out details, before retiring, herself. 

Mikey spent all night on his task, his brothers coming and going every so often. Sometimes they lent a hand, sometimes they offered thoughts, and sometimes they just nudged him to make sure he took breaks as he should. 

He could have laughed. He was a ninja; he didn’t need _breaks_. He could keep up any task for a dozen hours, easy – the _Hashi_ punishments proved this. Working on sewing something all night long was nothing. 

Hell, Raph had been forced to keep knitting for eleven hours straight once. If he could do that, Mikey could do _this_. 

A plain black jumpsuit of soft cloth had been the starting point, with some purchased cloth in pink and black for edits and additions. Thanks to Lisa voicing what she wanted, he had no trouble adding a catlike flair to it. 

The girls had also provided a cute kind of half-jacket with a hood, the outside black and the inside pink, and had picked the pink cloth based on that, matching the shade almost perfectly. He was impressed; he just had to add some cute cat ears to the hood and it was done. 

So far no shoes had been picked, though, so he expected the girls would go out once more to find something matching this morning. And he definitely felt the need to add some kind of belt, something to balance the detailed top and the midriff. That was up to the girls, unfortunately; he had no real supplies for that. 

Plus the outfit didn’t have a tail yet. He puzzled over that as he worked, letting his mind wander in his signature way as he thought about whatever came to mind until something good came to the fore. With an inward light bulb, he suddenly knew exactly what he needed: metal hangers, a foam tube, and a fuzzy cloth – preferably something already tail-shaped. 

A shopping list compiled, he made a note, left it on the edited jumpsuit and went to sleep for the time being. He couldn’t do anything else at this point, anyway. 

Cuddling up with Lisa, he drifted off, a smile on his face. His dreams were as entertaining as ever – only now they were commonly laced with visions of Lisa, and sometimes things got sexy as hell. This was one such night; in his dreams he was plowing her soft body, and she was screaming for him so sweetly. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d dreamt of this scenario, but it _was_ the first time it’d happened while he slept with her in his arms. Had he been conscious, this would’ve worried him – he didn’t want to cling too tightly to her and end up hurting her. Alas, the most he could do was bask in the perfection of the dream. 

Mikey woke sometime later to the sensation of being shook and a familiar voice in his ear; grinning, he surged up, grabbed his adorable girlfriend, and yanked her into bed with him. She gave squealing laughs on the way down, struggling to extricate herself. 

He totally wasn’t going to let her go anywhere – until she offered a game-changer. 

“Jo bought, like, a ton of accessories,” she told him. 

Suddenly eager, he hopped out of bed, recalling the costume he was making for his cutie patootie as a flood of excitement hit him. He was so close to done! With his shopping list completed, he was one step closer, not to mention he knew what a shopaholic Jo was. He’d be legitimately surprised if she hadn’t returned with at least five bags of various items. 

He was on the verge of saying something cheerful, but Lisa chose then to blush like mad and avert her eyes. Surprised, he looked down at himself–

Oh. Haha. His dream must’ve been more potent than he realized, because the front of his shorts was.. _.wet._ Wincing, more amused than embarrassed, he said, “Yeah, you go ahead – be there in a sec.” 

Nodding, Lisa was quick to obey, struggling back nervous chuckles as she excused herself. 

As he went about changing and washing up, he had to fight to keep from recalling the dream – which was the exact opposite of his norm. But, seriously, if the dream had been hot enough to make him cum in his pants, then he definitely shouldn’t think about it while wielding a needle. 

Especially not if Lisa was going to be wearing the costume. The last thing he wanted was to stab her. 

He quickly discovered the accessories Jo had purchased included gold and silver buttons, colored ribbons, lace and leather strips, several belts of varying designs, and the few things he’d specifically requested. 

The first thing he did: he cut open the cat tail they’d brought him, straightened the hangers, stabbed them through the foam tube he’d been brought, trimmed it up a little, and stuffed it into the opened cat tail. Once he had it sewn shut, he attached it to the butt of the jumpsuit and tada, instant posable cat tail! 

Raph hung around as the trio got to work, Mikey talking colors and fabrics with the two females as they tossed ideas around. The bigger boy was surprisingly focused, not even working out despite the slew of equipment; instead, he offered his own thoughts whenever the group descended into silence. 

It was helpful, if surprising. Honestly, Mikey suspected Jo had said something to Raph – something like, “You wanna have me back, I gotta finish with the costume first.” It seemed like a thing she’d say, basically telling him that he wasn’t getting her until the costume was complete, so he may as well help speed things along. 

He’d do absolutely anything to have Jocelyn all to himself. 

A weird kind of solidarity occurred as the day dragged on, getting closer and closer to the time Lisa would have to leave: everyone (including Splinter) started lending a hand. It was crazy but heartening, leaving Mikey happy as a clam. 

When they finally finished and had Lisa try on [**the costume**](https://78.media.tumblr.com/a868fdd821004f51680c59e521fabf33/tumblr_p6qv47KGnW1wtuqpio5_r1_1280.png), he was thunderstruck. 

He knew she’d look good – he’d intentionally made the costume that way – he just hadn’t realized _how_ good. Jo even put makeup on her, giving her cat eyeliner, a cat nose-and-whiskers combo, and a cat’s smile. The final touch came in the form of spray-on, wash-out hair dye in green and blue, styled into messy spikes. 

She’d never looked more adorable-slash-seductive to him, and it threw him off. She was cute _and_ sexy at once? How crazy was that? 

Good fucking god, he was lucky. 

She couldn’t kiss him without messing up her makeup, but she was clearly so elated with the finished product that they air-kissed instead. And she had _such_ a huge smile on her face, so pleased it was like a feedback loop in him: the happier she was, the happier _he_ was because she was happy. 

Lisa hesitated over leaving though, hedging, “Should I really wear this today…? I mean, it’s only the 25th…” 

Shrugging, Mikey offered, “There gonna be people in costume at the club?” 

Of course there were; that was the whole point of her making mixes for this week. They both knew it. When she reluctantly agreed, he urged her to get going, and Jocelyn volunteered to make sure she got there okay. 

What the girls didn’t know: Mikey had started silently attending Lisa’s club scenes (whenever possible; sometimes vigilante life got in the way). And there was no way he _wasn’t_ coming to her club every day he possibly could for the rest of the week. He didn’t even need Leo’s permission to go; his brother knew very well there was no stopping Mikey now. 

Thanks to the lack of traffic on the ninja’s path, he even got there before the girls did. He just popped a vent on the roof, slid through, and found a good spot up in the rafters. Nothing was around except a metal frame holding up colored spotlights, so he got comfy as he waited. 

Already he could see dozens of people milling about in costumes, the venue packed for this event. Some wore creepy outfits, some sexy, some silly – and a few were just straight-up replicas of famous movie and video game characters. He spotted a Samus, Nick Fury (MCU version), Kirby, two Links and a Jason Voorhees right off the bat. 

In a few minutes’ time, Lisa showed up, strode up to the booth, and yelled over the crowd, “WHO’S READY FOR A PARTAAAAYYYYYY?!” 

Grinning, Mikey watched as the entire building seemed to roar with enthusiasm, crowding onto the dance floor. A series of blacklights lit up as the normal lighting dimmed to almost nothing, bringing the crowd to a hush. Now lit up in glowing colors, Lisa set up her mix. 

It started with a piece from Actual Cannibal Shia LaBeouf. She cleverly removed all instances of the actor’s name, but the song was so famous by now that it was easy to recognize. And it set the tone for today’s mix: morbid humor. 

Honestly, the hardest thing was not to die laughing and give away his position in the process. She’d done an amazing job of stitching in some creepy horror lines that _sounded_ legit but were all from parodies – movies, songs, cartoons and such. Every single meme that popped in got not only him, but a good portion of the crowd, too. 

And yet, despite the humor, it was still a great dance mix, with steady beats and well-timed transitions. 

In short, Mikey was delighted and proud. His cute kitty had done a fantastic job with this remix. In fact, he wanted a copy of it. Anything that could get him to laugh almost to tears had an honorary spot on his bookshelf, if only metaphorically. 

He didn’t let her know he’d been watching, though; he wanted to surprise her on Halloween by actually being _in_ the crowd. To that end, he left after her section was done (which she’d drawn out by playing with the mix on the fly until a good six hours had passed). She went home, so he called her and asked how it went. 

“ _Boy_ , it was the best!” she crowed, gleeful. “Sam was actually there, he said it had his stomach cramping from holding back his laughs. Oh, right,” she added sharply, “that’s not a dig – the first mix was funny. I should send you a copy, I bet you’d love it.” 

_Not_ telling her that yes, he did love it, was difficult – it’d give away that he’d been there. So instead he just agreed that he’d love to hear it and she should maybe email him the mixes. 

He spent the rest of the night listening to each of them, growing more impressed by the hour. How incredible was his girlfriend?! God, he couldn’t handle this – he’d always thought he was a good DJ, but Lisa had him beat, easy. 

The music got him _pumped_ for Halloween, too; he couldn’t wait to get out there. 

_Soon,_ he told himself. _Soon._

In the meantime, he happily recounted to his brothers how Lisa had been the cat they’d rescued last year (Leo said just one word: “serendipity”; Mikey had no idea what that meant) and proceeded to spend all his free time either talking to Lisa, hanging out with her, or secretly watching her club performances from the rafters. 

At one point he thought she’d caught him – she looked right up to his spot, so he froze, but then her gaze wandered all over the ceiling and he breathed a sigh of relief. He was impressed, too. Her intuition must be pretty sharp, more so than he’d realized. It was just too dark to see him; with the blacklights and everything she couldn’t spot him. 

And on that note, she looked _amazing_ in a blacklight. Her eyes, her temporarily-dyed hair (which she changed by the day), the bright pink of her costume; it all made her glow like some kind of otherworldly being. After admiring her for the third night under that glow, he decided he needed blacklights for his room. 

Like, at least four of them. All along the walls. Enough to illuminate everything, including the bathroom. He could write-stroke-draw love notes for Lisa on the walls, then just light it up one day and let her see it all. 

He’d bet she’d squeak and hide, totally overwhelmed by the event, and the vision was so adorable he knew he had to do it. 

_Blacklights and fluorescent markers,_ he thought, making a mental note. The next time Jo went out shopping for them, he added those items to the list; she gave him a confused-but-amused look, not even asking. 

When she returned, she bore three five-meter LED strips of blacklights and a whole collection of differing types of UV markers in a rainbow of colors – and a set of blacklight paints, as well. 

He hadn’t even thought of that, but now he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. He was _so_ going to paint Lisa all over – if she let him. Which she would. 

Eventually. 

And then, _finally,_ it was Halloween. The brothers could don their finished costumes at last (Jo did so for the third night in a row, heading out to her ballet school’s kid event), leaving the Lair as soon as the sun was disappearing below the horizon. 

At first they just wandered, receiving and giving compliments, keeping their eyes peeled for criminals trying to mask their nefarious activities, and taking a moment to watch the Halloween parade go by. 

Mikey fully wanted to join in, but this time around he couldn’t – he had a schedule. Lisa’s final show was in less than an hour. He couldn’t very well miss it. 

Curious, his brothers opted to join him, wanting to see what her job (freelance or otherwise) entailed. Though Mikey had been to several of her events on top of visiting clubs on his own a dozen times in the past, this was _their_ first time attending something like this. 

It was a little tense, given they were in costumes that could potentially break or fall apart, and their massive sizes stood out like a sore thumb (Donnie’s Chewie mask was fully visible almost constantly as he stood above the crowd, no matter where they went) so they were careful about – especially considering Mikey wanted to surprise Lisa later into the night. 

Thus, they stayed back from the dance floor (even though they could’ve dominated it), waiting at the edges and holding down a table. By the time Lisa finally arrived, climbing up to the booth, Mikey was brimming with energy from the anticipation. 

His mind was alight with visions of how this was going to go – would she laugh, scream, duck down? Would she hop down to hug him? He knew she’d recognize him even in his full Bumblebee suit, helmet and all. It was just a question of waiting until the right moment to pop up. 

By now the crowd knew what was coming. As the black cat took up her spot, they were chanting, “DJ Diva!” in time with claps and stomps, making a huge amount of rhythmic noise. 

Mikey loved it, joining in – though he made sure not to speak just yet. The chance that his girlfriend might catch his voice above the others’ was just enough of a threat to keep him quiet. 

For now. 

The first thing he noticed about her was that she’d picked bright orange-and-yellow hair dyes for today, utterly thrilling him. He’d loved her colorful hair and missed it as they faded, and yes, he admitted he loved it so much largely because half her hair had been orange. 

Seeing those colors again made him so happy he almost got a reflex boner. 

Then the music began and Mikey nudged his brothers – Leo, specifically – as he grinned under his mask. His brother’s Predator helmet hid everything, but Mikey got the distinct impression Leo had just rolled his eyes. 

Whatever. With his mood so high Mikey didn’t care if his family were exhausted with him; _he_ was happy and they could pout and sigh and grumble all the liked. 

The previous themes had all been different, to some degree – morbid humor, goofy music, straight gothic, creepy cyberpunk, typically spooky (with wolf howls and spider noises and such), one was even a bizarre kind of dark electronica – and this last one was straight-up _Halloween._ He couldn’t describe it much better than that; she’d chosen dark, fast-paced songs with heavy beats, interlaced with (non-copyrighted) voice-overs and clips from some of the greatest horror films to date. 

He didn’t recognize everything, but what he did brought to mind memories of his childhood, watching Nightmare on Elm Street as he hid under a blanket just behind Raphael – using his brother as a shield. Hot damn, but Lisa had done an amazing job with this one. He wasn’t sure he could wait until the halfway point (his original plan) to reveal himself. 

He just couldn’t wait to give her some kind of a reward for all her hard work. 

The atmosphere worked to her advantage, too; a group of workers started up fog machines and worked in scary sound effects from the edges of the room, making the dancers pause every so often to look. The finishing touch was a projection on the wall behind Lisa, displaying a series of blood and gore clips that – and this annoyed him – didn’t match her music at all. 

Not that it didn’t match the theme, but when the audio has Freddy giving a creepy laugh and the projection showed Chucky’s stitched-up plastic face? Sigh. They obviously either didn’t tell Lisa they were doing this or they didn’t care about meshing with her music. 

The jerks. 

It wasn’t much of a drag, though. No one seemed to mind, just keeping on dancing. And, Mikey decided, now was a good enough time. Rising, he started to cut through the dancers, approaching the DJ’s booth and his _perfect_ girlfriend. A couple of zombies mid make-out had to scoot away, side-eying him, as he shouldered past them; a Leonidas tried to bro-fist him, but Mikey was riveted, eyes on his prize. 

Right then, no one else was worth his attention. 

It took Lisa several moments. She was bobbing and swaying, nodding to herself, as the music played, most of her attention on the booth. Other than holding a pair of headphones to one ear, she was giving the buttons and knobs her undivided focus. 

For a while. 

Once Mikey had a spot of maximum view, he waited; the next time she swept her gaze over the crowd, a grin on her face, her eyes landed on him and stuck. Smile fading, she stared, stunned for a whole three seconds. Then, shaking out of it, she mouthed, “Mikey?” 

He nodded. 

Hands up, she gave him a scream face, clearly delighted. That look, alone, had his stomach somersaulting. 

Fucking _swoon!_

Then she touched two fingers to her lips and gestured at him; he dramatically clutched at his chest, a wave of heat passing through him as if that gesture had actually hit him with something. 

A part of him was surprised by the flirtatious move from his admittedly withdrawn girlfriend, but the rest understood perfectly. She was dressed up, on Halloween, in a DJ booth – three kinds of freedoms in one. Of course her inhibitions were lessened, it was the perfect setup to help her exit her metaphorical shell. 

Especially considering they’d been steadily getting more physical lately; every time they were together, he asked to see and touch her, and though she hadn’t yet taken off anything, she’d let him fondle her breasts a lot and once she even let him masturbate her again. 

It’d been _amazing_. 

He’d also begun offering to strip for her, figuring that she wouldn’t have such a hard time undressing if _he_ was already undressed, but thus far she’d turned him down every time. 

After tonight, though, he had new hopes. Already she was showing that she felt more comfortable in her own skin than ever before, and hadn’t worn a binder in the last week even once (that she’d mentioned). He’d even noticed her behavior shift during these club events over the last few days – she’d started off a little withdrawn, never lifting her arms up as if she were hiding her chest with her half-jacket and hesitating to do more than sway back and forth. 

Now she easily cheered, hands thrust in the air, and fully danced in her booth during free moments. 

Mikey was _so_ happy for her, watching her steadily shed her fearful outer skin – not to mention he loved to watch her dance so much more now. He didn’t want to sound crazy lustful, but _damn_ he enjoyed the way her breasts bounced as she moved. 

With all this progress, he had a lot of hope that tonight would end with them finally crossing that last threshold – or, if not tonight, then soon. He craved it so much, it was almost pathetic. Worse, he knew Lisa wanted it, too; she was just too insecure and nervous to let it happen. 

To that end, Mikey had even bugged Raph for another sex talk, though his brother had just foisted him off on Jocelyn, instead. Shameless Jo went ahead and answered all of Mikey’s questions and even gave him tips, so now he was _pretty_ sure nothing would go wrong. All he needed was the green light. 

He prayed to Tupac that tonight was it, because _damn_ Lisa looked so good, so…edible. Maybe he was corny and weird, but he wanted to fool around with her in that catsuit so damn bad. He already had a boner (which, luckily, was fully hidden by the plastic armor he wore) with her name on it. 

At the _very least_ , he hoped she’d fix that for him. She’d given him a handsy twice in the last week and _holy hell_ she’d learned a lot along the way. He couldn’t wait to find out what new tricks she’d discovered since the last time. 

In return, he had a few tricks of his own he’d love to perform – if she’d let him. Until then, though, he just watched her, enjoying the music and waiting for the opportunity to steal her away.


	26. The Transformer And The Cat

**Rating:** X (swearing, sexual content)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Mikey was _here!_

Though she’d been stunned to see him at first, once that wore off Lisa was _pumped._ Honestly, she should’ve expected this, too; after the way he’d gushed over her mixes (she’d emailed him copies), she should’ve known he’d come by the club and watch her firsthand. 

In fact, she’d gotten the feeling he’d been watching for a few days, now – she just hadn’t been able to confirm it. It’d felt more like he was a ghost, like she was hallucinating just because she wanted him around. Seeing him in the crowd, in costume or not, was thus a kind of relief. It meant maybe she hadn’t been paranoid, but rather she’d just been prophetic and had anticipated him showing up tonight. 

Not that she’d know either way, him being a ninja and all. 

All that aside, she refocused on her music and aimed to make it super extra special for her boyfriend. There wasn’t much she could do with a pre-made mix – she had all the timing and fades and such already done – but with the tools in front of her she could at least stretch out the fun by going back and forth or using speed tricks. 

For dramatic flair, a few times she gradually slowed down the music by half just before a drop, then kicked it back up all at once. The crowd seemed to approve, screaming to the rafters every time she did it. 

It was amazing. A responsive club like this always just funneled energy into her, keeping her heart thudding hard the entire night. But knowing Mikey was out there, too? Able to spot him in his kick-ass Bumblebee suit, standing so close and looking up at her, attention riveted? 

Her body _flooded_ in adrenaline. 

By the time her set ended a good six hours had passed, now one in the morning. After getting her final payday (digitally; Louis sent it while she checked her phone to ensure her bank account received it because, let’s be honest, she didn’t trust him), she headed back into the club. She might as well be called a homing rocket at this point, because she zeroed in on Mikey as quick as she could. 

Or she tried; he found _her_ first, to no one’s surprise. And, after embracing his giant, blocky suit, he led her through the place and to a table. They had to squeeze through fans of hers along the way, but luckily only a few actually recognized her with their attention focused elsewhere. She sidestepped them all with polite “I’m off duty” and “thanks, you were great, too” comments as Mikey less-than-subtly shouldered past them, making her grin over that little possessive streak of his. 

They’d never been _in public_ together before, and she was finding she liked the way he prowled around her, keeping everyone else at bay. She was used to him keeping a hand on her almost constantly anyway, but adding in the way he kept a foot between her and the rest of the crowd? Ugh, he was so damn cute! 

_Everyone_ was here, she soon discovered. Not just Mikey and his brothers, either, but Jocelyn and Cassie, April and Casey, and a pair of others she didn’t recognize (both because of the costumes and because _who were Kevin and Carter?)  
_

Mikey explained simply: “friends”. 

C-J, unsurprisingly, were both dressed as ballerinas with a twist: Jo was very gothic (with grey makeup covering every inch of skin, which really emphasized how dark her skin really was); Cassie was more neon and colorful. Honestly, Lisa preferred Cassie’s variant. When she asked, Cassie explained that she was a [**harlequin**](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fae01.alicdn.com%2Fkf%2FHTB1C8sxQFXXXXXmXXXXq6xXFXXXu%2FHarlequin-professional-ballet-tutu-classical-platter-ballerina-ballet-costume-adult-pancake-ballet-tutu-skirt.jpg_640x640.jpg&t=MTdjNzM3ZTA0YmZjMmQzNzdjNDI4ZDY2ZTJiZDNiZjNlNTUzYmQ2Mix0MFRRUWdPVA%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178307601109%2Fthe-dj-part-26&m=0) ballerina, which was a concept Lisa loved immediately. Both had evidently come from a kid’s Halloween event at their ballet college, where they’d handed out candy, answered questions, and generally entertained a bunch of grade-schoolers. 

April and Casey, on the other hand, had chosen to be Jasmine and Aladdin. Kevin was just wearing a Pizza Hut uniform (his name-tag read ‘Domino’s’, haha), and Carter was wearing a classic Wolverine jumpsuit. 

Quite the diversity with this group, she saw, smiling. 

At first she didn’t see “Chewbacca” amongst the group and asked where he went; she was pointed to the dance floor. Sure enough, there was Chewie, standing head and shoulders above the crowd…and dancing. Curious, Lisa cut through the crowd to see what he was up to, finding he had a dance partner dressed as Leia in her warm Hoth garb. 

Sweet. 

Leaving the pair of them alone, Lisa headed back to the group, grinning to herself. Oh, man, did she hope this would lead to something for Donnie. Rather unfortunately (in her opinion), he was back as soon as the current song was over, nervously thrumming his fingers (paws?) on the table. It was adorable. 

The club, being as loud as it was, made conversation difficult, so the eleven of them exited soon after. After talking things over, they decided to part ways – in the sense that Mikey wanted to hoard her to himself so they went off alone. She caught Raph doing the same with Jo, but beyond that Lisa had no idea what the rest of the group decided to do. 

As the couple went off on their own, they talked – though it was hard for her to understand Mikey with his helmet on and everything. 

After the sixth time she had to make him repeat himself, he gave an audible sigh and pulled her off the streets with him. They decided to go back to their lucky place (the rooftop where they’d officially gotten together), but where Lisa just climbed the fire escape as usual, Mikey’s costume made that too difficult. Instead, he just did a series of wall-jumps and flips to get up. 

He even beat her there, which made her laugh 

He offered her a hand when she got close, and she was surprised to see his glove had a full five fingers – which worked, no less; all of the fingers curled around her hand when she took his. Baffled, she asked about that once she was on the roof with him. 

Shrugging, Mikey took off the helmet, explaining, “Donnie made ‘em, a pair for each of us. There’s, like, rings and wires and stuff inside. Pull on one, all the fingers move.” Taking off a glove, he showed her, tugging on something inside that she could only describe as a finger-sleeve to show how it manipulated the other three. 

It was _so cool_. 

“Okay,” she told him, “Donnie’s crazy. Officially. That’s insane,” she said with a point at the glove. 

With a grin, Mikey agreed, “He’s not a genius for nothin’. So,” he added sharply, a hand snaking around her waist to tug her close, “didja miss me?” 

“Mayyyyybe,” she teased, feeling just playful enough to lead him on. 

“You did,” he concluded. 

“I said _maybe,”_ she corrected. 

“In the language of Lisa, that means ‘yes’,” he retorted. 

She giggled. “That _may_ be right,” she offered. 

Chuckling, he leaned down; she hopped up on her toes to meet his kiss, happy as ever to have his affection. But his blocky costume made being that close difficult, especially on her poor, gigantic breasts. She had to back off quick, wincing a little as she massaged at a sore spot. 

Damn those sharp angles and corners! 

Giving his chestpiece a playful mock punch, she complained, “This’s making kissing way too hard. Maybe next year pick something softer,” she suggested. 

“For you, I’ll pick a giant teddy bear costume,” he promised. 

That had her laughing, imagining him in what was basically a mascot suit, giant head and all. “Okay, but it’s gotta be ninja-themed somehow,” she told him. 

“I’ll give it a mask,” he chuckled. “Maybe some elbow- and knee-pads.” 

“And one of those blow-darts sewn into the mouth or hand or something.” 

“I love the way you think.” 

“Ditto.” 

Pleased, they took a seat in their usual spots on the vents, the conversation drifting from the club to the Olympics to waterproof socks and everything in between, and they kept it up until Lisa started getting too lethargic to keep up with him. Her mind kept wandering away, and after a few of these, Mikey stopped and gave her a concerned look. 

“Need to go to bed?” he asked, though they both knew she did. 

She shook her head. “I can be up a little longer. Just get a Mountain Dew in me and I’m good for another, like…three hours. Easy.” 

Her boyfriend wasn’t having it. He insisted he take her home – though she picked up on a weird thread of disappointment in him as he spoke. He didn’t want her to go yet, she knew it – so why was he pushing for it? 

Shaking her head again, she told him, “I don’t wanna go home yet. It’s Halloween, the funnest night of the year, and we only just got to spend it with each other.” 

“Technically, it’s November first,” he pointed out. 

“Bollocks. It’s Halloween until the sun rises.” 

He chuckled at her use of the word “bollocks”, then sobered. Giving it some thought, he offered, “What if we go somewhere else? Somewhere we can hang out, and if you nod off, it’s fine?” 

_Like the Lair?_ she thought. But then, why not say so directly? Intrigued, she asked, “Like where?” 

Hesitating a second, he answered, “The second Lair?” 

At once, her excitement spiked. She knew about the place – Jo had talked about it before, and once when she noticed both Raph and Jo were missing she’d been told they’d “gone out” to “a secret place” – but she’d never been, herself. So far all she knew was that it was kind of a security risk for her to go there, at least until everyone was sure she couldn’t accidentally blab. 

Considering she had an admittedly loose tongue, the caution was justified. Even now she hesitated to go, unsure if she could keep from from letting anything slip after she’d been to _two_ different secret homes. At the same time, though, she was _super_ curious – she’d been given the impression that the second place was very different from the first, and she was intrigued to learn exactly why. 

“I’m down,” she said simply, trying to mask her sudden excitement. She couldn’t wait to see what they’d crafted. 

Mikey gave her a huge grin – then crashed, pausing on a thought. Holding up a hand, he said, “Uh, hang on. Need to check something first.” 

She watched as he took out his phone and sent a text. A few moments later he got a reply and sighed loudly. 

“All good?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Raph and Jo go there sometimes for…alone time. Just makin’ sure they weren’t there now.” Then, enthused all over again, he hopped to his feet and offered her a hand. “Ready?” he prompted. 

_Ready?_ She would’ve leapt on him if he weren’t wearing that costume. Instead, she took his hand and declared, “Yep! Let’s go!” 

He quickly put his helmet back on and off they went. 

They had to take a longer route than usual, unfortunately; his costume made ninja travel more difficult, relegating them to the streets, but he couldn’t just take it off and leave it somewhere – at least he couldn’t while still on the surface. As soon as Lisa complained about it (she’d been on her feet _all day_ , damn it; she didn’t want to do any more walking), he quickly ushered her into an alleyway. 

As soon as the coast was clear, they dropped into the sewers. He quickly yanked off the costume, piece by piece, leaving it in a hidden alcove to recover later. Then, rounding on her, he suddenly hefted her up in his arms and gave her a strong, needy kiss. 

At first she was fine with this, but when the kiss turned heavy and messy, she recalled her makeup and yanked back. 

Yep, he had black smudges all over his mouth, now. She snorted out of reflex, fighting off rising laughter, then said, “You smudged my makeup…” 

Amused, he replied, “Yeah, I noticed,” with a pointed look at her own mouth. 

She touched her lips, realizing then that she was probably just as much of a mess. Tisking, she whined, “Darn, now I can’t go back out again.” 

“That’s fine,” Mikey told her. “I’ll keep you entertained.” 

The look in his eye then told her exactly what he meant by that, and she couldn’t stem a flash of heat from rushing through her. _Not fair,_ she thought, even as she bit her lip, numerous memories flooding back. 

His tongue in her mouth, doing things she’d never known a tongue could do. His hands on her body, gently exploring only to turn greedy on a dime. His dick in her grasp, pulsing and twitching so hard she barely had to touch it to make it dance. 

His gaze absolutely _riveted_ to her, staring so intently it was as if nothing else existed in the entire world to him. 

Aloud, she murmured, “That’s…good?” 

He chortled, amused. Then, sobering, he strode off, having to take a walking path since he’d had to leave his board behind to fit into the costume. And, though he’d surprised her by carrying her, she appreciated it; after how long she’d spent on her feet (for subsequent days) she was practically _purring_ at being able to stay off them – and, yes, she realized there was a pun in that thought, her wearing a cat costume and all. 

For the time being, she just relaxed, letting her boyfriend front the physical labor involved in the trek. Best case scenario, it would give her some time to recover some energy before they arrived. 

* * *

“Lisa? Lisa…? Cmon, kitten, I gotta put you down…” 

The voice seemed to come from far away, reaching Lisa’s mind slowly. When she managed to peel open her eyes, they felt dry and the effort seemed equal to lifting boulders. Her first response was a weak moan, an arm lifting in an uncoordinated wave before dropping again. 

It took her a second to realize she’d fallen asleep, then another to forcibly get her body to respond. There was a kink in her neck that told her she’d been uncomfortable and probably shouldn’t have let herself drift off, but at least its secondary effect was helping her rouse thanks to a sharp, constant ache. 

A soft groan escaped her as she shifted, managing to lift a hand high enough to rub at her neck. She grimaced; Mikey seemed to flinch, noticing. 

“Sorry…I shouldn’t’ve let you sleep like that,” he apologized. 

“Mm-mm,” she denied, shaking her head – and wincing from the move as it caused a sharp flare of pain. “S’not your fault, baby boy. If anything, it’s Louis’.” 

With a weak laugh, he replied, “I’ll take it. C’mon, I need my hands for this next part.” 

He didn’t give her time to react, instead just moving aside to set her on the ground. Legs folding under her, she descended, leaning against the wall she’d been placed by and blinking to try and get some moisture to coat her eyes. As it stood, it felt like her eyelids were made of sandpaper. 

_Not_ a good sensation. 

Distracted as she was, she missed what Mikey did, but soon she heard a squeak and thud of metal and looked to find he’d lifted a hatch of some sort. With his help she got to her feet, climbed down the ladder leading below, and then froze as she took in the gigantic cavern before her. 

It was immediately obvious that this had once been a subway station, a large platform on either side split by a duo of rails in the center. She counted six cars in that middle zone, four on one and two on the other, and numerous slightly-split recreational areas dotted around. 

One area was a circle of chairs around a firepit that looked partly dug into the concrete, one was a half-circle of sofas facing a television on a wall, one was a kind of mismatched jumble of seats in a vaguely square set, one was empty and sectioned off by rails with racks of weapons on the nearest wall, and one part was the kitchen-stroke-dining room. A bridge gapped the two platforms on the closer side to her, and as she wandered along, she found an extra-large hot tub on the opposite end spanning the width of the rails between the two platforms. 

It was incredible – and so aesthetic! Numerous bundles of lights – Christmas strings, length of bulbs, even strips – hung from the arching ceiling and around the edges of the walls, strategic drapes were hung here and there both for decor and for sectioning the areas, and there were shelves _everywhere_ with all kinds of knickknacks and the like placed upon them. 

And, unsurprisingly, she saw neon lights and road signs hung up all over the place, which was honestly the only thing that looked identical to the home Lair. 

Suddenly Lisa wasn’t so tired anymore, her curiosity feeding her a portion of energy (or maybe her nap had kicked in; either way, she was sure she could stay up a little longer). 

As Mikey dropped down behind her, a loud _clang_ heralding the hatch being closed, she rounded on him with a grin. 

“This place is _amazing,”_ she told him. 

Grinning, himself, he gave her a quick kiss. “Knew you’d love it. C’mon,” he prompted, taking her hand, “wanna show you the best part.” 

“Your room?” she checked with a dry tone, amused. She knew him well enough by now to know that’s _exactly_ what he had in mind. 

Chuckling, he answered cheerily, “Yup!” He led her down the stairs and to one of the cars, the doors sliding open automatically as he drew close. 

She almost held her breath as she entered, unsure what she’d find but excited to find out. And, really, it was very similar to his room back at the other Lair, just without a bathroom and more open length-wise. 

There was a TV and entertainment stand with a sofa opposite it, two game consoles attached (a PS2 and another Gamecube); strings of orange (and a strip of…violet?) lights circled the ceiling; some spray-painted designs covered both the inner and outer walls; a collection of skateboards were hung on one wall. 

The bed was the only thing to confuse her, as it took her a moment to puzzle it out. At first she saw a mattress, blanket and pillows surrounded by an odd, cushioned frame with six legs, half the frame in orange and half in a dull brown. Then she noticed the two inner legs on either side had metal rings around them and it hit her that it wasn’t a frame – that was two sofas. 

He’d made a bed frame out of turning two sofas inwards and attaching their inner legs together, then stuffed a mattress in the middle. 

_Jesus,_ he was a genius, she thought. That was so…so _creative_ , it was crazy. 

Brushing her hair back (and, by extension, brushing her hood off), she commented, “You’re such…I mean you’re so brilliant! That’s two sofas and a mattress, right?” she checked. 

Her boyfriend was smiling so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t crack, and he answered, “Yep, you got it!” Then, giving her a more sultry look, he asked, “So…wanna come get a feel for it?” 

Oof, him and his damn _flirts!_ Feeling her face start to burn, she shuffled, gaze flitting away. This _always_ freaking happened – first she told herself she was totally going to get freaky with him, but then when they were in the right place, she hesitated. 

Though, to be fair to herself, that was understandable in the context. Her period had struck earlier this week, and though it was over now, she retained a measure of embarrassment over it (which she knew she shouldn’t feel because, c’mon, no one _wished_ for that to happen, but conditioned responses were still conditioned responses and all) which wouldn’t fade for a while yet. 

Gotta love the way rampant sexism made women feel ashamed of their bodies’ totally unwanted and uncontrollable natural acts, right? 

Forcing herself to stop thinking about that, she refocused, reminding herself how much she enjoyed and missed getting physical with Mikey – but when she looked back at him, her eyes latched onto the black smudges across his mouth and humor took precedence. 

Snorting, she gestured across her own mouth, struggling past laughter to comment, “Uh, sure, but maybe first…?” 

His smile dropped, confused, for a second; then, getting it, he laughed. “Get the makeup off, first, gotcha.” Then, after a thoughtful pause, he offered, “Actually, it could be fun to leave it on. We could leave little black kisses all over each other,” he suggested with a wink. 

She snorted even harder, unable to stem a bout of loud giggles. She could just imagine that – namely _him_ with black kiss marks on his neck, face, arms and plastron. The makeup wouldn’t last that long, she knew, but it was a funny image regardless. 

“Yeah, no, thanks,” she denied, shaking her head. “So, is there a sink or something around here…?” 

Chuckling, he led her out of the car to what was actually a legitimate bathroom. They must have gotten the plumbing working – and added in a showerhead, she saw. It was mind-boggling, how they did all these renovations and made it look so good. She was all but dying with curiosity to learn how they did it all. 

After they both washed the makeup off (an act which turned into a splash fight via the sink and left her hair and some of her clothing damp), Mikey promptly pinned her against a wall, hefted her up off the ground, and started kissing the hell out of her. 

It successfully helped her shake off her lethargy just a bit more, her heart picking up speed and rousing her tired limbs. 

In between kisses, he murmured, “You were so good tonight, baby girl.” 

Was she? Well, she’d _tried_ to be, at least; grinning from the compliment, she replied quietly, “I was trying extra hard…for you.” 

He was silent, stunned, for a suspended moment. Then, all at once, he crashed back into her with a feverish, passionate kiss, his tongue giving her so much delicious sensation it left her dizzy. It was all she could do to clumsily cinch her hands behind his neck, unable to do much more than moan and take his demanding kiss. 

Still, she felt awkward in this particular room, so she mustered up the will to push back. “Wait, wait,” she got out between his insistent pecks. 

He groaned. “Lisa…” he whined. 

Oh, man, that was cute, she thought. She gave him a wincing smile, replying, “Not in the bathroom – okay?” 

He glanced over at the shower, hung his head with a laugh, then nodded. “Yeah, good thinkin’,” he allowed, backing off to let her back on her feet. Then, taking her hand, he led her back out. 

Lisa _loved_ it when he held her hand, truth be told, even in situations like this when it had no purpose beyond simple affection. He didn’t need to lead her – there was no one around who could separate them and no way she could possibly get lost in this place – but she liked it all the same. 

Once they were back in the car that served as his room, she caught him flicking a switch by the door; curious, she asked, “What’s that?” 

“A lock. So the doors don’t open,” he told her. Then, wasting no time, he leaned in, kissed her, and hauled her up in his arms again. 

It just went to show how different their comfort levels were: whereas Lisa couldn’t think of a way to just start making out, Mikey didn’t give it a thought. He just went for it. More and more she was coming to appreciate that, too; whenever she wanted to get frisky but was too hesitant to do so, he seemed to catch on and act _for_ her. 

Then, each step sure, he walked them to the bed. This time, though, she felt no need to flee. In a way, this particular place – this particular bed – felt different. _Safe._ This wasn’t his bed; it was a spare. They could get as frisky as they wanted and it would mean nothing to her insecure inner self. 

One arm held her against him as he crawled up and over the bed, then lowered her down, their kiss never ceasing. And though he was halfway on top of her, their legs criss-crossed, her flight response remained quiet. 

Because it was safe here…and she wanted this, too. She’d been missing him, her enjoyment of the last week just not quite equal to her enjoyment from simply being around him – and factoring in how well he was learning to pleasure her, on top of it? 

She may as well have been starving. 

In a way, it was a bizarre thing to contemplate – her life just a few months ago compared to now. Once upon a time she’d conditioned herself to loneliness, told herself she didn’t need affection, and had (almost) successfully accepted her future as a freaking nun. 

Now she had the most affectionate, loving, needy boyfriend alive, and she couldn’t have been happier with that. Her inhibitions were toppling like dominoes, each one that got knocked down taking another with it. First it’d been touching, then kissing, then more intimate touching, and now straight-up orgasms. 

But was that really any surprise? Mikey absolutely _radiated_ the phrase “I’ll take care of you” – in every possible meaning, and not just because _she_ needed it. 

Because _he_ wanted to do it. She could feel it in the way he kissed her, in the hands he trailed along her sides and hips. He desired her, almost desperately so, but right alongside that was the almost overwhelming sense he had to please _her_. 

And, for Lisa, nothing was more seductive than that. 

Heart flooding with emotion, she moaned between kisses, “Uhn, Mikey…you’re the best…”

A shiver raced through him. “Yeah?” he prompted, giving her a sly grin. “I barely even got started yet.” He punctuated his words by giving her lower lip a suck that sent a coil of excitement all the way down between her legs, then drew back to ask, “How ya feelin’?” 

As if he needed to ask. Still, she was glad he’d developed this habit; there were times when she couldn’t figure out how comfortable she was, and the query gave her the leeway to slow things down if she needed it. This time, however? Totally not needed. 

There was nothing along the vein of negativity in her – no fear, no reluctance, no insecurities. Well, nothing _yet_ , anyway; sometimes they popped up later on. For now, though… 

“Ready for more,” she answered, a hand lifting to grasp his necklace and tug him back down. 

With a groan, he followed, a hand delving around her back to tug her up against him. It was a shockingly sexy move, making her hiss in a breath as her heart sped up just a bit more. _Darn sexy boy,_ she thought, _who gave you the right?_

She nipped him in retaliation; he shuddered _hard_. God damn, that was sexy as hell, too. _So_ not fair. 

She was getting uncomfortable, though – not emotionally, but physically. The accessories on this costume weren’t made for lying down, after all. Annoyed, she quickly undid the clasp on the belt, tossing it aside somewhere, then her collar and the clasp holding her hoodie closed. 

_Much_ better. 

Mikey clearly agreed, having drawn back a fraction to let her deal with the irritating bits. He looked mildly amused at first, then brought a hand up to stroke along the side of her face with an adoring look that made her stomach tie into knots. 

“You make the cutest cat,” he told her. 

She chuckled. “You made the costume,” she pointed out. 

“Uh, yeah. That’d be _why_ you’re the cutest cat.” 

God, he made her giggle. The fact that he could do it in the middle of making out, too, was incredible. God, she’d really lucked out with him, hadn’t she? 

It was on the tip of her tongue to say something along those lines when she noticed his gaze had lifted to her brow, a curious look on his face. After a moment, he checked, “You took out your piercings…?” 

Her dual eyebrow rings? Yeah, she had. Shrugging, she answered, “Didn’t like ‘em so much. So yeah, I took ‘em out. Anyway, when’d you get so chatty?” she complained, nudging his chest. 

In a snap, he went from curious to amused. Chuckling, he retorted, “I’m _always_ chatty.” 

“Not when we’re making out, you’re not.” 

“I can be.” 

“But you’re not.” 

“Maybe I just wanna talk.” 

“Yeah, and your favorite food _isn’t_ pizza.” 

At that, he smirked, replying darkly, “Maybe my favorite food is you.” 

Annnd there was her signature blush, rushing back all at once. She couldn’t even form a reply, that one caught her so off guard; with a squeak, she whapped at his chest, only to get her hands caught and pinned. He dove back in, and this time he kissed her with a level of fervor she hadn’t felt from him before. 

The needy, harsh kisses were unlike his usual selection – and they sent flashes of heat coursing through her. This was a different kind of passion than he’d ever given her before, and though she was overwhelmed and unsure how to handle it, she quickly found it _highly_ enjoyable. 

Meeting his kisses proved difficult, as she just couldn’t match the swift, firm way he did it; the most she could manage was a brief effort to lick back whenever his tongue swept through her mouth, there and gone before she could react to it. 

After making her lips absolutely _burn_ with sensation, he moved on, ducking his head down to give her neck similar attention. This, she found, was interspersed with nips and gentle bites, the whole of it making her shiver near-constantly. It felt so good, echoes ricocheting down through her body to coalesce in her breasts and core, that the most she could do was clutch at him and whimper for more. 

His mouth remained where it was, but he responded to her wordless pleas nonetheless, a hand sliding from her waist up to a breast. She writhed from the move, arching, and he took the opportunity to slide a leg under hers – his thigh pressing right up against her juncture. 

And Lisa couldn’t help it; she bucked, and the pleasure that shot through her from the move…oh, that was heavenly. She gave a cry, and in the following seconds she could hear and feel her boyfriend struggling to maintain a measure of control over himself. 

God damn, why did that always turn her on even worse? 

Giving her neck another nip and her breasts a slow squeeze, he ventured, voice low, “Can I see your tits today, baby girl?” 

At that moment, she would’ve said ‘yes’ to anything. She hummed out a vague affirmative sound, but – figuring it might’ve gotten lost in translation – opted to go a step further and show him, as well. 

Nudging him back, she sat up, then began disrobing. Her jacket went first, then her gloves, and then she was contorting her arms around to grasp the zipper going up her spine. Mikey helped, batting her hands away and catching her mouth in another needy kiss as he pulled the zipper down…down…all the way to her lower back. 

Why was that so much sexier than her doing it? 

She had a bra on underneath, of course – a simple beige one because _why didn’t they make big bras in any other color, for god’s sake_ – but between her pulling her arms through the sleeves and her boyfriend undoing the clasp of her bra, they quickly had that done. 

Then came the moment of truth: actually letting him see. He’d been begging for it, asking at least once every time they started making out, but she’d never felt comfortable enough to agree to it. She still didn’t, not really – but she was tired of saying ‘no’. 

She was tired of letting her fear of objectification and rejection govern her actions, particularly when she knew _damn_ well Mikey would never treat her like that. He found her sexy and wanted to be closer to her, that was all; she knew that. It was about time she sent her insecurities to the firing squad. 

Besides, taking off that bra felt _amazing_. She exhaled with an _oof_ as weight displaced, the straps no longer digging into her shoulders and back. Even the cool air felt good against her hot flesh, the jumpsuit having left her a little uncomfortably warm. But though Mikey caught on – she felt him suck in a breath against her mouth – he didn’t immediately move. 

Waiting – with bated breath, no less. 

She couldn’t quite banish a lingering thread of fear – what would he think? Was she too big? Not big enough? What about her nipples, were they too big or weird or dark? – but she pushed past it by reminding herself of one particular thing: 

He loved her. 

Keeping that firmly at the forefront of her thoughts, she gave him a tentative smile, then promptly closed her eyes, crossed her arms over her face and dropped back onto the bed. 

It was her version of a leap of faith, and when she heard Mikey hiss in a sharp breath, then give a strangled whine, she knew she’d made the right choice. 

The only question now was what he was going to do next.


	27. Fulfill My Fantasies

**Rating:** XXX (swearing, sexual content)

* * *

* * *

* * *

At that moment, Mikey could almost swear he could hear an angelic chorus drifting through the room. 

She’d _done_ it. His shy, adorable, sexy Lisa had bared her breasts for him, and it instantly gave him the worst hard-on of his life. Sure, technically he’d been hard for a long while, but as soon as she fell back on the bed, letting him see her naked chest, it’d gotten painful. 

A kind of strangled whine escaped him, so touched and aroused and overwhelmed it was difficult to get over a measure of stun, trying to figure out what to do next. He had three thoughts in particular: squeeze ‘em, suck ‘em, and fuck ‘em. 

He knew he shouldn’t do any of the above until she’d expressly said it was okay, but right then he knew she couldn’t _say_ “yes” – he’d have to settle for her saying “no” if he went for too much. 

Besides, how could he have possibly resisted at least giving those luscious mounds a good fondling? His hands all but burned with the need to feel her unimpeded flesh. 

To his credit, he tried to give some kind of verbal warning (she was covering her eyes, after all) but barely managed a vague syllable as he dove down to her. One hand, then both, gently cupped the soft, heavy flesh on offer, giving careful strokes. 

Lisa jolted with a little _yip_ – possibly the cutest sound she’d made to date. Biting his lip, he explored, using the moves he already knew she liked while learning the exact texture and heat of her bare breasts. 

He shuddered as he stroked, entranced. The way her tits molded to his hands, their jiggle and give, how incredibly soft her skin was, all of it – it was seductive as hell. He found himself licking his lips and running his tongue over his teeth, imagining her taste. 

It took him a minute to realize he didn’t have to _imagine_ it anymore. 

Groaning, he leaned down, keeping his weight on an elbow as he brought his mouth into play. At first he aimed right for one of her rosy nipples, but he diverted at the last second, figuring he probably shouldn’t _start_ with that. Instead, he kissed along the side of one mound – and the freaking _sound_ she made when he did, holy _shit._

She was biting her lips, and the first kiss made her twist and whimper, her fingers biting into her arms. 

Sexy. As. Fuck. 

Watching her, he licked, eating up the way she jolted from the move. Oh, this was going to be so much fun, he thought. 

Mikey set in swiftly, lavishing one breast with kisses and tongue-flicks – carefully avoiding the areola for now – and growing drunk on her taste and the sweet music of her moans and cries. When he finally brought his tongue to her nipple, giving it a thorough swath, it was an unconscious move on his part; he’d just steadily been drifting that way. 

He shivered, eyes drifting shut; she yelped, arching and convulsing. Unable to help himself, his lips closed around the tight bud, giving it loving sucks and strokes with his tongue. Her hands caught him by the neck, scratching and scraping, and the sensation only spurred him on. 

One thumb absently stroked and circled her opposite nipple as he indulged himself, learning what he could and couldn’t do and what she liked most. He sucked all around her breast in intervals, tested how much he could get in his mouth at once, dragged his teeth over her sensitive bud to see how much she liked it, and all the while made mental notes about which spots gave her the strongest reactions. 

Then her fingers caught on his chain and yanked, pulling him – intentionally or not – towards her other, thus far unloved breast. Drawn away, he caught her wrist, making her let go of the chain. Distracted by her hand, he gave her palm a kiss, then her wrist, then trailed them down her arm. His lips seemed to follow their own path, bringing him to her neck; he gave her a soft bite, ending in a little, soothing kiss. 

Lisa was clearly loving it, shifting and writhing under him. One hand stroked his neck, the other trailing softly between his shoulder and shell, the feeling oddly delightful. If the sweet music she kept humming in his ear was any indication, she was enjoying herself as much as he was – if not more. 

He shifted, one hand coming to cradle her cheek as he slipped his tongue past her lips. The heavy _ughn_ she gave told him she’d been starving for his kiss; he made a silent promise to not leave her wanting for so long again. 

He couldn’t spend much time here, though, with the rest of her perfect body still calling for him. He could all but feel it – the places where her need was the strongest. It was an impossible thing to resist, luring him away from her delicious lips so he could tend to her proper. 

He trailed his mouth down her neck, giving her throat a loving swath on the way, before diverting to her unexplored breast. And he admitted to himself, as he began piling similar affections on this one that he’d given to the other, that easily half of his motivation was selfish; he wanted to taste, to feel, to earn her pleasure. The fact that she enjoyed it, too – that it drove her crazy – was as much his purpose as it was his reward, and still as much a pleasant side benefit. 

Her hands kept going between petting at him and gripping the sheets, and muddied though his mind was, he read those motions for what they were: tells. And though this attention was making his cock _scream_ in pain from the need for release, just attending to her tits like this soothed that quite well. When he shifted to his knees, undid his pants and let it out, the lack of pressure made it even easier to ignore. 

…For a while. 

Even the most ice-cold, self-controlled man would have eventually lost himself to lust, had he been in Mikey’s place. He was no different; with time he groaned and whined more and more, his need for release growing more demanding by the second. 

He was in the process of testing how well he could lick and suck at both her nipples at once when he gave in, ceasing his affections to spear his sweetheart with a look. 

She was shaking, head-to-toe; Lisa’s whole body was wracked with incessant quivers. Her lips were swollen and damp, too, both from his kisses and her own bites, and it nearly arrested all his attention. 

Wrenching his mind from those red lips, he refocused. He needed to come – and he wanted her help to do it. A dozen ideas ran through his head (cumming in her mouth or across those lips, sitting astride her while she pumped him with her hands until he came on her tits, laying back while she sucked him off, and more) before his mind seized on one in particular. 

“Lisa?” he prompted, getting her eyes to flutter open and look at him. 

She looked adorably dazed, her pupils so gigantic right then it made her baby blues look brown. How freaking hot was that? 

Seeing no reason to beat around the bush (and lacking the patience for it, anyway), he blurted, “I need to cum – can I fuck your tits?” 

She blinked at him, almost seeming confused. Surely she’d heard of this before, right? He didn’t think he had the cognitive ability to explain right then if she hadn’t. 

But it only took her a few seconds to shake out of it, giving him a nod. “U-um, sure, I guess…?” she offered, sounding breathless. 

Good enough. He was too desperate to turn down even that flimsy reply. 

As he pulled himself up, planning on kneeling over her for this, she ventured, “What do I…?” 

“Nothing, I’ll do it,” he answered quickly, crawling over her and bracing himself on his knees. He was careful about where his shell was, knowing it reached just a little further than his ass, bringing his knees in close to her sides to make sure he was high up enough to avoid causing her any pain. 

She looked _very_ unsure about this, nervous as hell despite the pleasure he’d been piling on her until now, but as much as he wanted to soothe that, the pressure in his cock demanded action – especially now that he was close enough for it to lay on her generous mounds. 

The warmth of those tits – slick with his saliva, no less – felt amazing, and he’d barely touched them yet. But despite wanting to cup those gorgeous breasts and hump away at them, he hesitated when he reached for them. 

He felt on the verge of a frenzy right then, after all; he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t hold them too tightly, and bruising her lovely flesh was an unforgivable crime to him. He couldn’t risk it. 

Aloud, he directed, “Cup your tits for me. Just hold ‘em together.” 

She hesitated to do so, hands hovering for a second, until she caught the look on his face – he didn’t know exactly what she’d seen (probably desperation), but whatever it was, it settled the doubt in her eyes. 

Her hands pushed her tits together, sandwiching his cock between them, and just that sensation – getting enveloped in her soft, warm breasts – brought Mikey to the edge. 

This was _not_ going to take long. 

He was okay with that. 

Bracing his hands against the frame (read: sofa arms) above her head, he set in, rocking his hips against her – and, oh, man, it felt incredible. His own hands – hell, _Lisa’s_ hands – were nothing compared to this. He felt addicted already, the sensations going straight to his head. 

If he’d been half-drunk before, lavishing her breasts as he’d been, then _this_ sent him over the edge into _full-on hammered._ It was the most he could do to lean forward, ensuring his shell wouldn’t be bumping against her, as he slowly lost his grip on self-control. 

Pumping into her tits was his new favorite activity, bar none. In seconds he was giving loud moans, stuck somewhere between wanting to make this last and needing to cum as fast as he could. And though watching his dick peek out from between her tits with every thrust was a damn irresistible sight, he found watching her face was more so. 

She was fascinated, all but enraptured, her gaze stuck to his cock’s movements. Whatever she was seeing must be arousing as hell, too, because she couldn’t seem to look away – and when she licked her lips, he was done. 

Just getting that glimpse of her pink tongue sent him careening over the edge, and he heard himself give a churr-laced shout as he came. Pleasure like nothing else flooded him, racing through his veins and coalescing in his cock as his mind became lost to his climax. He tried to keep his hips still as ropes of cum lanced her soft flesh, but it was an impossible endeavor; he kept giving sharp, interspersed thrusts, each one making more of a mess than the last. 

By the time it ended, his body wracked with shudders in the aftermath of his orgasm, his cock was coated in his own cum from his motions. And when he could focus again, he found he’d made a good deal of distance, too – one line climbed up Lisa’s chin, another going right across her lips. Sexy as though that was, when he noticed how _shiny_ her tits and neck had become, another harsh shudder rent through him. 

Oh, yeah, he was going to be needing this again – often. For now, though, he withdrew, moving aside to take his weight off her and give her room to breathe. 

As he settled into her side, trailing his fingers along her stomach, he caught her curiously swiping up the cum on her lips. Before he could say anything, though, she stuck the tip of her finger in her mouth – tasting. 

His eyes widened, staring in shock. He honestly hadn’t expected her to do that; Raph might’ve told him that Jo liked the taste of turtle cum, but Mikey hadn’t told _Lisa_ that. She was acting totally autonomously. 

When he caught a look of surprise on her face, he checked, “Do I taste good, angel?” 

Startled, she sent him a glance only to blush and look away again. “Hey, w-who said you could ask me that?!” she demanded the wall. 

“I did. Just now,” he answered. Pulling her closer to him, he nuzzled into her hair, relaxation flooding his limbs now that he’d had that damn amazing orgasm. “C’mon, just say yes or no,” he prompted. “I wanna know.” 

She was quiet for a second; then, giving him a tentative glance, she replied quietly, “Um…kinda? I-I _think_ so, but…” 

…But she’d barely had enough of a taste to be sure? Chuckling, he offered, “You have plenty more if you wanna give it another try…” 

Tisking – and blushing worse – she gave him a shove, though he caught her biting her lip, too. When he saw her look pointedly at her breasts again, he said, “Go on – I won’t judge you. Honest.” 

She gave him a tired look; shrugging, he dropped it – and rolled over, giving her a deep, thorough kiss. Her breath hitched at first, and then she moaned, meeting his tongue’s dive in the middle. Her hands lifted to his face, trailing up and down his cheeks in feather-light caresses that stirred up his needs all over again. 

His kiss reflected that, growing more demanding and passionate as his emotions spiraled right back up again. 

Against her lips, he murmured, “I love you so much, Lisa…” 

At this point he couldn’t fully express that; he felt too deeply, too fully, to put it into words or even actions. He didn’t have the vocabulary, the experience, the imagination – the most he could do was insist, with words and actions, until she couldn’t take any more and told him to stop. 

Her breath caught again, body giving a tiny jolt at his heartfelt confession. “Mikey…” she whispered. 

He snagged her gaze, held it. He stared deep, delving as far as he could into those pretty blue pools. And his exploration came up positive – he knew it for sure, now. 

She loved him, too. 

The way he kissed her, then, was a form of begging. He wanted – needed – to hear her say it aloud. He kissed deep, then shallow, coaxing her away from her lingering fears as well as he knew how. He teased, giving her tiny pecks at lighter and lighter touches until she was leaning up to catch his lips, only to turn forceful in a snap and take her mouth so hungrily she quivered and whimpered. 

Soon she was hanging onto him, her hands gripping his shoulders from under his shell. And when he felt her shifting, rubbing her thighs against him, any frustration he might’ve felt at her inability to say those promising words was erased. 

God, he’d been so selfish, hadn’t he? Swamping her tits with affection only to hump away at them, bringing himself to orgasm without ever giving her the same… She must be going crazy with need, her poor clit throbbing for attention. 

At once he let go of his demands, choosing instead to tend to his little angel. Love confessions could wait. Right now, more than anything, he needed to give her release. 

But he couldn’t help hoping to go further than usual, so he drew back from the kiss to ask, “Can I eat you out, baby girl?” 

In a literal blink she went from dazed to alarmed. She must not have expected that – hell, knowing her, she might not have even contemplated it before. And though once upon a time he might’ve taken that look as a ‘no’, since then he’d learned not to assume such. 

She very often surprised him with ‘yeses’, so he waited for her answer. 

He could _feel_ a part of her recoiling – not physically, but emotionally – as she quietly offered, “Um, I dunno…? I don’t, um…I hadn’t thought about it…” 

He’d figured as much. Opting to give her a preview, he eased a hand down between them to stroke her, gentle and slow, right against her – _freaking hot_ – pussy. 

As she gasped, shuddering, he murmured, “Did you like how I sucked on your tits, kitten? I’d do the same thing – down here…and…” Nuzzling her ear, he lowered his voice further to a quiet purr, finishing, “…I’ll lick you all over – inside. All you gotta do is spread your legs, and I’ll do the rest.” 

She bit her lips on a groan, likely envisioning it. Her shyness kicked back up in full form, keeping her from looking at him, but she gave a vague nod. 

Good fucking enough. 

He got right to work, sitting up so he could pull off her boots and the rest of her jumpsuit. She shifted to help him, though he could see her visibly getting more tense. Making a little mental note to pay closer attention than ever before, to stop if she started showing any hesitation, he moved down further until he was right where he needed to be. 

For the sake of her own comfort, he didn’t take off her panties – that would have to wait for later, as she clearly wasn’t comfortable enough with it yet. Maybe in another hour or so, he placated himself. 

Having her almost totally naked, he couldn’t help looking her over, his gaze hungrily eating up every visible inch of her. And, as his eyes caught on a glimmer, he felt a trickle of surprise – she had a navel piercing! How…unexpectedly sexy. It was a cute thing, a pair little pink gems above and inside her navel with a duo of silver chains hanging down, ending in another pair of those pink gems. 

He couldn’t help a grin. How long had she been hiding that? On the other hand, _had_ she been hiding them at all? He style didn’t exactly show off her stomach, after all. Maybe she’d just consistently forgotten to say anything and he’d consistently failed to get her shirt off. 

Unable to resist, he he dropped a kiss on her belly, right at the topmost stud. Glancing up at her, he said, “Dunno how you do it, baby girl, but you pull off cute-and-sexy so well.” 

She covered her face with both hands, giving a whine. 

Reaching up, he tugged her hands away, then leaned in to give her a sweet kiss. “You don’t have to hide from me. You know that,” he told her. 

She gave him a tentative smile. “I know. But it’s not that easy…” 

A point. Her nerves were consistently an issue, always making her wince and blush and hide. It was as frustrating as it was adorable. 

But it was also fading, he’d noticed, and he was damn well going to cash in on that while he could. 

“For now,” he said, “just relax. I’m gonna show you _why_ you don’t gotta hide.” 

As he started to duck down, holding her gaze, she suddenly stiffened, grabbed a pillow, laid back, and covered her face with it. A single thread of humor hit him; whatever worked for her, he thought. 

From here on Mikey worked in increments: stroking her thighs to get her used to the sensation before bringing them to her cloth-covered pussy, then rubbing his thumb in circles over it, then nuzzling against her heat – and _holy fucking Jesus_ , the smell – from this close – hard his dick hardening all over again. 

It’d been dormant this whole time, still recovering from his intense orgasm, but that scent had it instantly back to full salute. A constant churr started up in his throat, so pleased was he to be giving her this. 

Hardly able to wait any longer, he pulled the crotch of her panties aside so he could dive in – but was halted for a suspended moment at the _sight_ of her. 

God, she was so – so _pink,_ the color looking so damn lovely on her. And though he was used to watching pornos involving perfectly waxed females, he found he liked the fact that Lisa wasn’t; her brown curls made a lovely little frame for her wet flesh. 

Groaning from the mingled sensations of seeing and smelling her at once, he brought in a thumb to spread her folds so he could dive in. The first touch was with his tongue, giving her full spread a firm lick, and she _bucked_ , back arching, with a strangled scream. 

Oh, yeah, she liked this. Now all he had to do was finish what he’d started. 

He set in, alternating between licking, sucking, and stroking her with his thumb. He was careful not to venture inside – yet – knowing she wouldn’t be comfortable with it so soon. The downside was that he couldn’t quite use the full length and versatility of his tongue until he did so. 

And, god, he wanted to. 

Lisa wasn’t hard to figure out, he noted, but then, she never really had been. She was so responsive, so expressive, that he had no trouble discerning what she liked and what she didn’t. In no time he was giving her exactly what she wanted – sucking at her tiny clit – as he clutched her thighs, eating up the way her body twitched and shivered as he worked her. 

It was incredible, bringing back that drunken sensation from before. Head swimming, he almost lost track of his goals as he performed for her, so seduced was he by the way she wordlessly egged him on. 

But when he suddenly recalled his promise to put his tongue to use inside her, it quickly became all he could think about. Watching her hips quiver and buck, her breasts heaving with her breath and her hands clutching the pillow to her face – it all made him want to drive her crazy even more. 

Releasing her clit at last, he lowered his mouth the inch necessary and started licking at her entrance. She _yelped_ , spasming against him, and her hands flung down to grasp at his so quickly the pillow went flying. 

That was so fucking hot his cock gave what had to be the strongest throb he’d ever felt. 

She stared down at him, her eyes silently pleading, and that was all the direction he needed. He pushed his tongue inside, moaning from the feel of her tight, hot walls – and how her muscles clenched down as he went deep. He tried to suck at her as his tongue thrust and curled inside her, but by now his focus was too strained to keep at it consistently. 

It didn’t matter, clearly; Lisa cried out, her hands seizing his head and her back arching. Though he tried to figure her out, between his own arousal and her seductive taste he barely had time to identify (thanks to a _lot_ of research) where her g-spot was before she came, only a dozen firm strokes needed to bring her release. 

And it was a life-changing moment for Mikey: feeling her walls clenching and milking at his tongue as she clutched his head to her sex, screaming to the ceiling, her legs quivering in his grasp? It was the most moving, arousing, heart-swelling moment of his life. The most he could do was moan against her flesh, keeping up his strokes until her clenches grew weak. 

With reluctance, he withdrew, and he smiled as he noticed his tongue _ached_ from the exercise. He ate up the sight of Lisa then, the way her chest heaved with her coming-down gasps and her lips seemed to quiver. She was red as hell all along her chest and face, and at some point she’d lifted a hand to rest against her cheek. 

She looked so damn sexy, he could barely handle it. Grinning, he ducked down to nuzzle against her belly, still churring from how much he’d enjoyed himself. 

He _sincerely_ hoped he’d get to do this frequently – once a week at the bare minimum. Tongue-fucking her to orgasm was his new favorite thing ever, easily overtaking the act of tit-fucking her. 

Not that tit-fucking was bad, not by a long shot, but he could damn well order his priorities and right now the top of his list was “tongue-fuck Lisa every chance I get”. 

Against her belly, he purred, “Was it good for you?” 

He waited a beat, then two, for her response, but none came. Curious, he glanced up– 

She was asleep. 

It took a second for Mikey to process that, and when it did, he laughed to himself. _Of course_ she’d pass out; she’d been up almost a full day. She got up at seven on work days and today – yesterday, Halloween – was a Wednesday. She’d said she got Gil to give her Thursday and Friday off, since she’d be working late up till Halloween, but then Mikey had kept her up until almost four in the morning. 

She’d barely had a nap on the way over here, and then he’d gone and sexed the hell out of her. Honestly, he should’ve expected this, but hindsight and whatever. 

_Now what?_ he wondered. He had to reorder his priorities, at least for the night – make a checklist. 

First thing: deal with his brand new raging erection. 

He shoved off his shorts and tossed his shoes towards the door, considering his options. Obviously, he could just wank, but he also had a drop-dead sexy nearly-naked girlfriend _right there_. Sure, she was unconscious, but he could at least _look_ at her, right? She wouldn’t mind – not anymore, anyway; not after everything they’d shared tonight. 

He was _pretty_ sure about that. 

Honestly, what he wanted more than anything right then was to cum all over her beautiful tits – again. But though the idea was tempting, seducing him every time he laid eyes on them, guilt assailed him whenever he looked back up at her sleeping face. 

Yeah, no – that wouldn’t be happening. Until the day he asked her outright if it was okay and she approved of it, he had to assume her answer would be “no”. 

Sad, that – but, hell, it wasn’t like he lacked for stimulation right then. He had an incredible amount of her flavor on his tongue, clear memories of how her tits felt both in his hands and cocooning his cock, and her screams still echoed in his ears. 

He moved to the edge of the bed, reclining, and started stroking himself as he gave a brief thought of what to do afterwards. _Clean up,_ he told himself; he’d have to clean them both – and without waking up his cute little kitten. Considering she was more than a little exhausted, he didn’t see that being a problem. 

Eyes slipping closed, he smiled, churring, as he masturbated, his mind lovingly recalling the last hour with Lisa. Every sound, every taste, every touch; he replayed it all, savoring all the little details he hadn’t caught before. 

A part of him lamented that his prediction hadn’t quite come true, that he hadn’t been able to cross that final finish line with her, but _fuck_ if he hadn’t gotten one hell of a consolation prize. There were no ifs, ands or buts about it: tonight had been a major success, easily the best night of his life – so far. 

He just couldn’t be displeased with the events, and less so when he imagined where they’d go from here. God, he couldn’t wait to go all the way with her – he’d fuck her so good she’d be speaking in tongues for a month. 

Until then, he was perfectly happy giving her repeats of tonight.


	28. Clumsy Lisa Strikes Again

**Rating:** R (swearing/sexual references/nudity)

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When Lisa woke up, she felt so warm and comfortable that the very concept of consciousness was repulsive. She groaned against the sensation of being awake, curling up tight and tensing in a weak kind of stretch. Peeling her eyes open proved to be a chore unlike any other, the effort seeming to take more will than muscle to accomplish the task.

What she saw confused the hell out of her: a metallic wall, set with a shelf, that arched into a roof studded with bolts and lined in orange Christmas lights–

Hang on, where was she, again?

She felt a breath against her neck then and glanced over to meet the sleeping face of her boyfriend – sans mask, she noted, and she felt oddly surprised by that. Sure, she’d once asked him why he always wore it, but she also hadn’t imagined how he’d look _without_ it.

He lacked eyebrows. Though that made sense, she still found it a little weird. _He’s a reptile, it’s not weird,_ she chided herself. _Humans are the only creatures with eyebrows._ You’re _weird, dummy._

Couldn’t argue with that, she thought.

God, he looked so cute when he slept. His lips were partway open, showing a little of his perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth (she was a little jealous of that), and as she watched, a corner of his mouth lifted in a little smile.

_Awwwww._

It only lasted a second, but it was so freaking cute, she made sure to file the moment away into long-term memory. Unable to help herself, she rolled over towards him and snuggled in, rubbing her nose against his. He reflexively pulled her closer, a soft, weak churr escaping his throat, and it was _easily_ the most adorable moment of her life. She never wanted it to end, she was so happy to be here, like this, with him.

…Right up until she suddenly noticed how clearly she could feel his skin and plastron, especially on her breasts. Suddenly the last night came rushing back, memories of some _seriously_ intimate acts coming to the forefront of her mind. 

His mouth on her breasts, sucking and fondling and driving her crazy with need. His tongue in her mouth, kissing her in such a teasing way it’d brought her close to tears. His cock between her breasts as he thrust against her, pleasuring himself with the softest part of her body. And…and his tongue… _inside_ her…

Face flaming, she spun away from him again, a strangled yelp pulled from her. Sitting up, she clutched the sheet to her naked chest and tried to scoot away; with a whine Mikey roused just enough to seize her hips and pull her right back down, holding her tight against him.

She wriggled, needing to escape his grasp and get some clothing on (a thread of relief hit her as she recognized she still wore her underwear, but it was swiftly erased as she recognized that _he wasn’t_ ) but unable to bring her arms away from her chest.

Her boyfriend muttered something unintelligible against her neck, then very clearly gave her a little nip; she jolted, yelping, the move sending a coil of excitement through her. Dear god, that was… _so_ not fair.

Even in his sleep, he found ways to seduce her. What the heck.

Shivering, she ventured, “M-Mikey? Boo?”

He was still again, apparently having drifted back to sleep. _Lucky._ She wished she could do that, but alas, Lisa was the type who could never just go right back to sleep, no matter how little she’d gotten.

Moving carefully, she tried to take advantage of the situation to escape again, fighting to lift his – _holy shit how much muscle was in this arm?! It was like trying to lift a kid!_ – so she could wriggle free.

She barely got a few inches before he shifted, tightened his arms around her again, and spooned her so damn close she could practically feel every individual muscle along his arms and thighs.

Then he nuzzled against her shoulder and she freaking melted, her frantic need to get dressed easing. Darn him and his adorable not-even-awake-yet affection.

But, well…now that she was awake, she was starting to realize how badly she had to pee. The pressure was getting painful. Whining, she complained, “C’mon, baby boy, I gotta get up. You’re too strong, you need to let go. For serious.”

He muttered something, and she thought she heard ‘the airplane’ among the mangled words.

“Uh, yeah,” she agreed, “the airplane. It needs to land. Passengers gotta disembark and whatever. As, uh…as you step off, you start to wake up,” she guided, unsure if this would work but running out of options. Her bladder was demanding relief.

“Nnnn,” he whined, clearly still fighting. Somehow he found a way to wrap her up even tighter, nuzzling again, and she started to realize just how aggravating mornings with him could be.

If he didn’t let go of her soon, she was going to go right here, and she’d be damned if she was going to clean it up.

Trying for a firm tone, she snapped, “Mikey! Up! Your girlfriend has needs, you know, and you’re making it harder on her.”

That finally seemed to do the trick; he gave his head a sharp shake, then withdrew one arm as he rolled more to his back, rubbing at his face. He grimaced a little as he finally peeled his eyes open, squinting at her in an adorable just-woke-up way that was also kind of weird without his mask there.

She’d just have to get used to that, she supposed.

“Lisa?” he murmured, rousing slowly. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

She deadpanned, “I gotta pee.”

She could practically see the word “oh” on his face. With a dry laugh he let go of her, hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry – go on,” he said.

She hesitated only a second, trying to figure out if she needed to get dressed first, if she had the time (of course she did), and if she even really felt the need for it.

To hell with it. Now that she’d gotten over her initial panic about being almost-nude, she felt silly for having freaked out at all. After the way Mikey had devoured her last night, it was stupid to shamefully cover her naked parts – not only had he seen everything, but he’d fondled, kissed, and sucked on everything, too. She was still a little hesitant as she tossed the sheets off her, but she powered through it, reminding her as she went that there was _nothing_ to be afraid of anymore. She flicked the switch that locked his doors and they parted for her, opening the way into the Lair.

She had her arms crossed over her chest as she peeked out, though, checking left and right to make sure no one else was here. Seeing no movement, she hurried to the bathroom, did her duty, then came back (after rinsing out her mouth in the sink, seeing as how there was no toothbrush in here).

She found Mikey sitting on his bed, checking his phone, one leg up on the bed and the other idly swinging over the ‘frame’.

Lisa _tried_ not to look right at his dick, but her eyes dropped straight to it – only to stop dead, confused by what she was seeing.

…There was no dick. Um, what?

Instead of a flaccid penis – what she’d expected – she instead saw…a slit? Just a little vertical slit, the skin seeming to be soft and borderline puffy at the edges. To be frank, it _looked_ more like a vagina than anything else, just with notably fewer features.

“Uh, baby girl? What’s up?” Mikey asked.

She jolted, face flushing as she realized she’d been staring. “Nothing!” she blurted reflexively, but she was unable to stop another telling glance down at his crotch. She slapped a hand over her eyes to stop that before it could happen again, embarrassed.

He gave a soft chuckle, saying, “Lisa, it’s okay – you can look. I promise it won’t infect you with turtlism.”

She winced at the joke, shame descending. Crossing her arms over her breasts – both because she felt awkward and she kind of wanted to hide right then – she confessed, “No, I-I know that. I’m sorry, this went way weird. Can we start over? ‘Good morning’ and all that?”

She gave him a tentative look, smiling with what feeble positivity she felt right then.

It was a relief when he smiled back, agreeing, “Anything for you. You know that.” Pushing to his feet, he strode over to her, then leaned down to give her a sweet kiss. “Good morning, lovergirl,” he purred.

_Lovergirl?!_

She squeaked at the word, blushing so hard she could feel heat radiating off her face. Covering her reddened cheeks, she offered, “G-good morning, um, honeybee?” her flustered emotions making her greeting into a question.

Despite the awkward way she’d spoken, Mikey actually looked charmed. He tilted his head, smiling down at her as if the morning couldn’t be any better than it was. “Missed you,” he said.

…What??

Baffled, she blurted, “We slept in the same freaking bed, how could you miss me?”

Pouting a little, he confessed, “You weren’t in my dreams.”

Oh.

….Awwww!

Giving a soft whine, she leaned into him, complaining, “Why’re you so sweet all the time? It’s too much – loops right back around to cruel.”

“I can be more cruel, maybe it’ll come back to sweet?” he suggested, chuckling. His arms circled her, fingertips trailing all over her back and shoulders.

“No – that much’ll just kill me,” she denied, giving him a pout. His touches were starting to give her delightful little goosebumps, successfully putting a smile on her face – and making her squirm a little.

He tisked. “Can’t have that. Oh well, guess I’ll just have to sex you up whenever you hit your limit on ‘sweet’ to reset the levels.“

Her face lit on fire. The way he freaking said that – while trailing his fingers along her lower back – was entirely too much to process. She still hadn’t quite come to terms with all they’d done last night; how was she supposed to handle even _more_ intimacy?

She didn’t want to just outright say ‘no’ to that (mostly because _hell, yeah_ she wanted more) but she also had enough trouble just comprehending how far they’d come. Imagining even more was likely to make her head implode.

Last night she’d learned what it felt like to have something inside her, and she already knew what his dick felt like. Pairing them together…trying to picture how it would feel to take him inside…it made her quiver with equal parts desire and fear. 

She couldn’t think about that now. 

Vying for levity, she ventured, “Uh, y-yeah, haha, that’s an idea…I guess… A-anyway, you hungry? I’m hungry–” 

She started to pull away, but her boyfriend’s arms suddenly turned to steel, not letting her escape. “Hey, whoa, where ya goin’?” he teased, giving her a little smirk. 

Lisa’s response was a squeaked, “To the kitchen?” 

He pouted. “You didn’t even ask me how I slept yet,” he whined. 

Why that little–! 

She’d completely forgotten, what with the crazy morning and all, but they’d developed a habit of texting each other right when they got up – for her, that was around seven in the morning, but for him, it was usually closer to two in the afternoon. And she always started with asking him how he’d slept. 

Unable to fight off a grin, she leaned into him, then gave an exaggerated sigh. Speaking in monotone, she asked, “How did you sleep?” 

Suddenly he swept her up into his arms and spun around with her, pulling a surprised yelp from her, and declared, “Wonderfully! I had this really cute ‘n sexy girl beside me all night, it was the best – you shoulda been there!” 

She was _just_ uncomfortable enough to keep an arm across her breasts, but even that couldn’t battle against the humor he’d pulled out of her. Giggling, she retorted, “Really? That sounds awesome! Sorry I missed it, but hey, I had this really big, really strong, _really_ cute boy in _my_ bed all night, too. Maybe next time you can join, turn it into a Lisa sandwich.” 

He laughed. Then, sobering, he pulled her in closer, giving her another ultra-sweet kiss. If it was some kind of calculated move on his part, then it’d worked; her arms wound around his neck of their own accord. 

When he spoke next, he had a serious tone – a rarity for her Mikey. 

He asked, “Hey, kitten?” 

…She loved that nickname. “Yeah, boo?” 

He hesitated, then ventured, “How do you feel?” 

Nerves started twisting in her belly. He only asked that when they were getting freaky – or when he wanted to lead them there. Her words caught in her throat a moment, recalling last night’s events, before venturing, “Kinda scared?” 

He glanced away, thinking, even as his hands tightened ever so slightly on her. Obviously, he didn’t want to let her go – but she knew he would if she needed it. 

All she had to do was say the word. 

After a moment he said bluntly, “I was hoping – last night, I mean…I was thinking…I wanna make love to you,” he finished, and she winced a little at the confession. 

She knew that already. Mikey had made it painfully clear, time and again, though this was the first time he’d said the words aloud. But though a part of her wanted to give in and experience that with him – to give that to him – the rest of her was still scared of it. 

To be that close…to put her heart on the line like that… 

How did anyone make that leap, knowing what it meant? 

“I can’t…not yet,” she answered quietly. She still wasn’t sure enough of herself and her feelings. Knowing that Mikey would be good to her, that he would absolutely take care of her, wasn’t enough by itself. _She_ needed to be certain – of how she felt, what she wanted, how she would act – and so far…she wasn’t. 

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. 

God, she _felt_ her boyfriend’s disappointment. In a way, he seemed to deflate, shoulders slumping and arms dropping a fraction. It made her feel so damn guilty, she was about ready to say “to hell with it” and push herself through something she wasn’t prepared to take – because she knew it’d make him happy. 

But it wouldn’t, would it? If she made herself suffer, by any means, for him…it’d just make him sad. If she forced herself to have sex with him when she wasn’t ready for it, it’d just make the both of them miserable. She hated making him wait, yet it was still the best option – for both of them. 

It just…also made her feel really bad. 

Then he snapped out of it, perking right back up with a smile and a declared, “That’s fine – I can wait. Hey, you said you were hungry, right? Whatcha want for breakfast?” 

Lisa had to take a second and analyze him right then, making sure he wasn’t faking enthusiasm. She caught his cheek, held his face, stared hard at his eyes. She just had to be sure this wasn’t forced, that he wasn’t pretending to be positive when he felt negative. 

He blinked at her, clearly confused, before mimicking her stare. 

She stared harder, squinting. 

He did the same. 

Just like that, she lost it and burst out laughing, convinced. Chuckling, himself, he set her on her feet again, then leaned in to give her a kiss. It interrupted her laughs, making them taper off to nothing as she responded, lifting up on her toes to meet him. 

Man, she loved kissing him. 

Then, with a soft churr, he withdrew and commented, “I ever tell you that laugh-kisses are some of my favorites?” 

She snorted. “All kisses are your favorites,” she pointed out. 

He tisked. “Darn, got me.” 

She couldn’t help her reaction to that: she flattened herself against him, arms winding around him to grasp his shoulders. Snuggling in, she thought, _Yeah, I do…and I wouldn’t trade you for anything._

It was on the tip of her tongue to say it aloud when they were interrupted by a loud, familiar voice echoing over to them: 

“Heeeeey lil bro, you up yet?!” 

Freezing, a sudden panic hitting her, Lisa’s eyes went to the lock beside the doors. She hadn’t flipped it again… 

Mikey was quick, hauling her up and then depositing her in the bed, the sheets tossed over her before she could react. Huddling into them, her face practically on fire, she watched with disbelief as the doors slid open. 

No one walked in, though – thankfully. It was just the motion detector working as designed. 

Mikey strode over to the doors looking like he was ready to commit murder. 

* * *

It was Raphael. Of course. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the older brother was up to. As Mikey stood in his doorway, nude except for his glare, Raph had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. 

“How was your night? Sleep well?” he asked. 

A dozen responses went through Mikey’s head, none of them lacking repeated uses of curse words – which he couldn’t say cause Lisa was right there and would be distressed by it. He could only continue to silently glare, not the least bit amused by this. 

“Aww, why so annoyed? I’m jus’ bein’ a good bro, checkin’ on my little brother,” Raph teased. To his credit, he wasn’t getting any closer or trying to see inside. He was just getting a little revenge. 

Yeah, no – Mikey was _not_ dealing with this. He gave Raph a shove, hard enough to make his brother step back, out of the range of the motion detectors. Then, stepping aside himself, he let the doors shut and then quickly locked them. 

Raph was chortling, amused as hell, but at least his footfalls took him away. He didn’t have a lot of consideration, but he had _enough_ , thank god. 

With an annoyed grunt, Mikey went back to the bed. Lisa looked mortified, her eyes wide and her cheeks a much darker shade than her usual blush. 

As he flopped onto the bed, aggravated at having his morning interrupted, she demanded, “What was that about?” 

Huffing, he answered, “Payback – first time Jo stayed the night with Raph, I interrupted ‘em in the morning. In my defense, it was hilarious,” he told her. “Obviously Raph didn’t agree, so…” 

With a dry laugh, she sat up and brushed her hair back, the locks still bright yellow and orange from her temporary dye. “Yeah, okay, but in the future, let’s _not_ give him reason to walk in on us again, okay?” 

Grumbling to himself, Mikey accepted that. Then, sitting up, he suggested, “Anyway, you didn’t answer me – breakfast?” 

She verbally hummed, giving it a thought, before she got up and rustled around for her phone – still in her jumpsuit’s pocket. Taking it out, she checked it, then sighed. “Guess who called me last night?” 

“The chupacabra?” Mikey joked, coming up to look over her shoulder. 

Missed call: Sam. 

_Yep, the chupacabra,_ he thought wryly. 

For a few moments she held the phone, finger hovering over the ‘dial’ key, debating. Then he made the choice for her, taking her phone away and turning off the screen. 

He said, “Breakfast – then I’ll take you home. Okay?” 

Smiling, she agreed, “Okay.” 

They got dressed first – her because of her nerves (wearing her cat costume because that’s all she had here), and him because he didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable (he was perfectly comfy in his hatchday suit, himself) – and then he went about making some delicious morning food for them. Lisa tried to join him at first, but he shooed her away. At this point it was a pride thing; _he_ wanted to take care of _her_ , and he’d be damned if he let her disrupt that. 

But when she complained and he told her that, she pouted, replying, “Aww, I was thinking it could be fun – me and you, making breakfast together… It’d be something else we can do as a couple.” 

Well, _fuck_. He couldn’t argue with that, could he? And, honestly, she’d been right – it was a lot more fun cooking _with_ her. They pelted each other with flour, made a huge mess, tossed around crazy ideas about how to make the pancakes “differently”, and no meal had ever tasted sweeter to Mikey. 

Yeah, he was never refusing her help with anything ever again. 

Taking her home afterwards was one of the most heartbreaking things he’d ever done to date. After the way they’d been last night – well, this morning, technically – he wanted nothing more than to bask with her and reminisce about all the pleasures they’d shared. 

Instead, he had to deliver her back home – back to her brother. Sighing (and internally chuckling over the patches of white on her nice black catsuit), he played the Linger Game with her as hard as he could, just soaking up every extra second with her that he could get. 

It went phenomenally well. After he pelted her cute face with a few stray hit-and-run kisses, she wised up to his game and caught his next one with her lips. Then they started making out, getting really heavy _really_ fast. Maybe it was that lingering sex smell that still clung to her, the curve-hugging catsuit, or the taste of their shared breakfast still on her tongue, but he was quickly driven past the point of no return. 

He asked to give her a last orgasm before they parted. 

She said _yes_ – he pet her until she came – and then she returned the favor. 

God, he hoped they did this every time she had to leave from now on. 

* * *

When Lisa got home, finally walking through the door, she found – to her surprise – that Sam was still there. He was sitting at the kitchen counter, his phone plugged into a nearby outlet, staring at it. But the moment she opened the door, he was turning to her. 

They spoke over each other: 

“Where’ve you been?!” 

“What are you still doing home?” 

She sighed. That was a lot more fun when she did it with Mikey. Annoyed, she said, “You first.” 

Sam was glaring. “You, first,” he shot back. 

“Your story’s probably quicker,” she returned. 

He gave a grunt. “Vandalism. Someone got drunk and broke the two front windows and stole some power tools. Brendon’s canceled all work today while he gets it sorted out with the police. Now – where’ve you been?” 

Arching a brow at him, she retorted, “With my boyfriend.” 

A pause stretched out, and then he demanded, “And _my_ story’s shorter? You were with your boyfriend – where? What’d you do? Did you get drunk?” 

Lisa rolled her eyes. He’d been asking that since she confessed she’d gotten buzzed off a couple fuzzy navels last month. Any time she was out for longer than an hour, that question fell from his lips. 

Maybe she was still infected by good cheer from her great morning (and fantastic night) with Mikey, or maybe she was just tired of this, but something made her sarcastically reply, “Yeah, Sam – I got drunk. Totally hammered. Puked all night, you’ll be happy to know. Just finished my gig, met up with my boyfriend, sucked down White Russians until I couldn’t see straight, then crashed at his place. Happy?” 

To be frank, Sam looked more like he was about to either scream or pass out. But, after a moment, that passed and sorrow took its place. He looked away. 

“What the hell happened to us?” he asked the floor. “You used to tell me everything. Now you tell me nothing. You realize how scary this is for me?” 

Just like that, Lisa melted. She hadn’t considered it like that. Sighing, she came over and gave him a hug, but he didn’t return it. 

Aloud, she confessed, “Look, I’m sorry, Sam. I’d tell you more if I could, but my boyfriend’s life demands silence. I can’t say more – not without endangering him.” When he gave her a sharp, alarmed look, she was quick to add, “ _I’m_ not in danger, don’t worry! But he – he needs secrecy. I can’t talk about him or introduce you guys, not until I know for sure you won’t freak out.” 

“You’re freaking me out,” he told her. 

“Exactly,” she sighed. “This is why I keep saying you gotta trust me. I get this is scary and whatever, with all the questions I won’t answer, but you _gotta_ trust me. My boyfriend, he…he loves me, y’know? I’m never in danger with him, he never pushes me for stuff, he just…he’s nice. Sweet. And _super_ funny,” she added to herself, smiling as she recalled how often he made her crack up. 

Refocusing, she finished, “He’d never hurt me, intentionally or indirectly or anything. I’m _safe_ , Sam,” she assured him. 

Her brother had been quietly examining her the whole time she’d spoken, clearly trying to get a feel for her emotions; she let him, not even trying to hide anything. She wasn’t a confident person, not by a long shot, but she was confident in at least one thing: 

Mikey was perfect for her. 

Then, looking thunderstruck, Sam murmured, “You’re in love with him.” 

Her eyes widened, heat rising to her face until she almost felt faint. “W-what?!” she shrieked, her nerves becoming so taut she felt them _snap_. “N-n-no I don’t! I mean I’m not! What kinda – you’re crazy!” she blurted, shoving him. “W-why you gotta say crazy stuff, crazy guy?!” 

Shaking out of his stun, Sam gave a bland chuckle. “Y-yeah, you’re right, my bad,” he agreed. 

Harried, she backed off, blurting, “I’m gonna go shower! Y-you – you stay right there a-and…think about what you’ve done!” Then, hurrying, she turned so quick she ran straight into a wall, rebounding with a yelp. Pointing at Sam as she went around the corner, she snapped, “That was your fault!” 

He lifted his hands in innocence, watching her go with wide eyes. 

As soon as she was in the bathroom with the door shut and locked and a spare towel shoved against the crack under it, she covered her mouth with both hands and started screaming. 

Her heart was freaking _pounding_ , going nuts in her chest. She felt like she’d just taken a fall down an elevator shaft, the rush and the adrenaline and the dizzying sense of _which way was up, again?_ making her freak out like never before. 

She was pretty sure she was hyperventilating at this point, but as she didn’t have a bag on hand and there was no way she was leaving this room, she took an alternative route: humor. 

Forcing out some strangled laughs, she said aloud, “Haha, crazy guy – saying I-I’m in…in l-love an’ shit. I’m not! No, no I’m not! I’m just…I like him. That’s okay, right? It’s okay to like my own freaking boyfriend! No big deal! Haha, yeah, that makes sense, chill out, Lise – you’re allowed to be in _like_ with your boyfriend! I mean, he’s great, right? Right! Good talk!” 

Feeling hysterical, she quickly turned the shower on and starting stripping, but it was a surprisingly difficult task in her current state of mind. She kept trying to remove the individual pieces out of order, starting with going for her zipper before she’d even taken off the hood, then pushing down the suit before she’d removed her shoes. 

And still she rambled at herself. 

“I mean, who’s amazing? He is, right? Yeah, super amazing – cool and sweet and just the best. Who _wouldn’t_ like him? No one, that’s who!” She probably sounded insane, but she had to calm herself before she had a freaking heart attack, so she kept going, even after she got into the shower. 

Probably not the best place to be scatterbrained. 

She realized that when she caught herself using her shampoo as bodywash. 

“Hah, crazy girl,” she chided herself, “y-you need to get your head together. This is fine. Sam didn’t _mean_ to drive you nuts, he was just…being Sam. Yeah. You’re gonna go out there when you’re done – after putting on a towel!” she snapped at herself, just to make sure she didn’t forget (at this point, it was a legitimate concern). “Yeah. You finish, you put on a towel, then you go and forgive him. No biggie. You can do tha–” 

With a cry, her sudden turn as she pace-encouraged herself slipped and down she went. Pain exploded from her ankle, tearing a scream from her. She kicked out of reflex, but the resulting slam of her foot into the lining of the tub only made it worse; it was everything she could do to stop a second scream. 

Shuddering, fighting against the pain, she pushed herself back with her hands and good leg until she took all pressure off her injured one, then looked at it. At first she could see nothing, even as the pain radiating up her leg told her something was definitely hurt. 

Then, carefully leaning her leg this way and that to take a better look, she could see a swell starting to form. 

Oh, great – she knew what this was, having suffered numerous of these injuries over her life. Sighing, she admitted to herself that she’d just sprained her damn ankle. 

And, now that she was more calm and her mind had cleared a fraction, she could feel new aches on her rear, shoulder, elbow, and the side of her head. _Great._ Probably some nice bruises forming in those places, too. 

A sudden pounding at the door made her jolt, then sigh, Sam’s voice filtering through, “Are you okay?! Lisa!” 

“I’m fine!” she yelled. “I just slipped! I locked the door – just hang on!” 

Moving carefully, she levered herself up onto the lip of the tub, testing her new sprain with light touches and presses of her fingers. It didn’t take her long to find the worst spot – on top of the pain, she could easily identify the swell now – and it wrought a sigh out of her. 

_Great job,_ she chided herself. _You done hurt yourself. Time to break out the Ace bandages…again…_

Though she technically hadn’t finished her shower yet, she _had_ succeeded in rinsing herself off from that shampoo-bodywash fiasco, so she figured it was good enough. Turning off the water, she made her way to her foot, wrapped herself in a towel, then hopped her way to the door – literally just a hop away, so luckily it wasn’t hard. 

Opening the door, she gave her brother a fake, wide grin, declaring, “Guess who just sprained her ankle?” 

Sam winced, shaking his head with a weak smile. “My fault, right?” he checked. 

“Normally, I’d say no, but I’m annoyed right now, so – yes.” Gesturing the external sink set, she directed, “Grab me the bandages, then get me some ice, okay?” 

They’d been around this block more than a few times, for both of them. Sam being a carpenter (and her avenger), and Lisa being…well, Lisa…they’d both had more than a few injuries over their lifetimes. She had no trouble bandaging up her ankle, securely fastening it in place, by the time Sam returned with a bag of frozen corn. 

Good enough. 

As she stuck it in one of the loops, she chided, “In the future, no making me freak out, okay?” 

He gave a dry laugh. “Make you a deal: every day you tell me something about your boyfriend, I won’t _intentionally_ make you freak out.” 

She frowned at him. “But when I freak out, I get owies,” she complained. “You’re threatening me with owies.” 

“Yep,” he agreed. 

Chuckling, amused, she found herself thinking that this could work in their favor. So she replied:

“Day one: he’s got blue eyes. Brighter than mine, yours, or anyone’s.”


	29. Uh, Oops?

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing/sexual references) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

When Mikey made it back home, the first thing he did was sneak up on Raph and tackle his brother. Grunting on the way down, Raph retaliated, twisting back to his feet to start a wrestling match. 

“You _jerk,”_ Mikey snapped, “you ruined a good moment!” He dove; Raph pivoted, throwing a swing; Mikey countered it; they stepped apart. 

“You did the same thing!” Raph shot back, though to his credit, he looked amused, not angry. He charged; Mikey spun, throwing an elbow; Raph took it and kicked; Mikey recoiled, pain shooting through his side. 

“Nuh-uh, I waited till _your_ moment was over!” Mikey threw back. “Lisa was about to say something big, I know it – you interrupted!” 

That brought Raphael up short, giving his little brother a suspicious, thoughtful kind of look. He ventured, “…She was?” 

Hesitating now that the fight had been put on pause, Mikey gave a sharp nod. “Yeah, and you fucked it up. _Thanks,”_ he sneered. He could see, then, that Raph was visibly trying not to appear guilty. 

Huffing, Raphael rolled his shoulders, glancing away and back again. At length, he bit out, “Then – I’m sorry. Think you can call her, get her to say it now?” 

Unlikely. Knowing Lisa as he did, Mikey knew it was all but impossible to get her to talk about romantic stuff when the moment had already passed. She was too skittish for that. 

Just like how he’d figured out by now that she was pretty okay with physical intimacy – in the moment; outside of it, though, and she was right back to Catholic Schoolgirl. 

He answered, “Probably not. She doesn’t tick like that.” 

Wincing, Raph offered, “Could give it a try? Y’never know with girls…” 

Mikey snorted. “Oh, you’re the big expert now?” he mocked. 

Narrowing his eyes, the taller boy snapped, “Bigger expert than _you_ by over a year.” 

“Fuck a sai.” 

“Nah – got a girlfriend for that.” 

Oh, that one _stung._ Legitimately pissed off now, Mikey launched into a second attack, throwing a fist; Raph was too slow to avoid it. As Raph staggered from the hit, anger flashing across his face, a voice cut through to them. 

_“Yameru!”  
_

The shout made Mikey cringe and stopped Raphael from retaliating. With the kind of disappointing frown only a parent could master, Splinter strode between the brothers, giving them both a stern look. Then, gesturing them both down, he gave them both a quick slap upside the head as soon as they were kneeled. 

“Apologize to one another,” he directed. 

Flinching, Mikey muttered, “Sorry, Raph.” 

Looking away, Raph replied, “Sorry, bonehead.” 

Splinter gave Raph a second slap, making the larger boy wince. 

Gesturing Mikey, he said to Splinter, “He started it!” 

Gesturing Raph, Mikey threw back, “He insulted me!” 

Raph snapped, “You hit me!” 

“You hit _me_ all the time!” 

“Not like _that!”_

“Like _fuck_ you haven’t–” 

“Enough!” Splinter cut in, his voice stern but not loud. 

It was still enough to get both boys to settle, knowing full well what was ahead of them if they kept this up. They took deep breaths, calming themselves, as Splinter warned, “You are brothers – but more than this, you are part of a very small family. You have little room for arguments and contests. You _must_ learn to forgive – both of you,” he added, giving Mikey a pointed look. 

It made the youngest cringe, realizing a little late that, yeah, he was quick to forgive – except when it came to his relationship. He still held something of a grudge for the time Raph got into Lisa’s snacks during their first date. 

Raph took a deep breath, then met Mikey’s gaze and said, “Sorry…what I said…that was mean.” 

Yes, it was. Chin lifting, Mikey gave him an annoyed look – but it quickly faded as his nature kicked back up. Couple that with Splinter’s words and he was feeling guilty as hell.  

Deflating, he replied, “It’s okay, I forgive you, bro. But, uh…d’you forgive me?” After all, Mikey had been mean, too. 

Raph’s smile was strained, but he said, “Yeah, bro.” He lifted his fist; Mikey bumped it. 

Brotherly bond confirmed as unbroken, they both glanced up at their father. Splinter already looked pleased, and he gave them a nod. It was a dismissal, so the brothers rose and went their separate ways. 

Mikey’s destination was his room. He wanted to give Lisa a call, check and see if maybe his brother’s suggestion would work out. 

He doubted it, but hey, it was worth a shot. 

Lisa answered on the fourth ring (huh, didn’t usually take her so long) with a perky, “Hey, boo. What’s up?” 

“Nooooothin’,” he replied, already grinning just hearing her voice. “Just missing my kitten. Whatcha up to?” 

“Relaxing while Sam acts as my personal butler,” she replied. While he tried to puzzle that out, she said to someone else, “Hey, don’t jab me, buttface – this is totally your fault anyway.” 

Mikey could _just_ hear Sam retort, “Me? _You’re_ the clumsy one!” 

Interrupting, Mikey cut in, “Wait, what happened?” He was growing concerned. 

Lisa took a slow breath, then blurted, “I tripped and sprained my ankle, and it was all Sam’s fault. Ow!” she hissed off to the side. “That’s it, I’m tellin’ Mom.” 

At that, Mikey distinctly heard Sam blowing a raspberry, then Lisa doing it back. As the siblings traded jabs and immature noises, he took the moment to process what he’d just heard. 

Lisa was hurt. She had a sprained ankle. And, somehow, she was blaming her brother for it. 

He was _instantly_ saddened. He whined, “You’re injured? Aww, I knew I should’ve kept you longer…” 

Maybe it was silly of him, but he felt like if he’d just had her around another few hours this wouldn’t have happened. He could just imagine her, foot in a cast, unable to walk without a crutch, hobbling around everywhere, and it broke his heart. 

Had she cried? Was her face coated in tears even now? Was her ankle bright purple and swollen to the size of a softball? And how the hell had Sam caused this? Had he apologized? He’d better have apologized–! 

Lisa was chuckling as she replied, “It’s fine, it’s just a sprain. Gimme, like, three weeks and I’ll be back to normal.” 

Sam retorted, “If it’s fine, why’re you being so pushy and demanding?” 

“It’s called _responsibility_ and it’s pronounced _you ain’t got a choice,”_ she shot back. There was a pause, then she started laughing; Sam must have done something. 

Well, it was good to hear she seemed to be doing okay, but Mikey still felt bad. He wanted to run over there, check on her, and then basically live there with her until she’d recovered. If it weren’t for Sam, he would’ve been on the way already. 

Then, thinking that it was a Thursday and Sam had a weekday job, Mikey asked, “Wait, why is Sam even there? Shouldn’t he be at work?” 

“There was a break-in,” Lisa answered. “He can’t go in until his boss gives him the okay.” 

Oh. Yeah, that’d do it, he thought, grim. “That sucks. I wanna come over there and check on you.” 

She whined. “Aww, I’m sorry, baby boy, you can’t. But, hey, on the bright side I’m finally getting Sam to indirectly trust you,” she added with glee. 

Sam called loudly, “Yet to be seen!” 

Mikey chuckled. “That’s good,” he agreed, though his spirits were still low just knowing Lisa had an injury. He knew he should make some jokes, get her to laugh so _her_ spirits stayed up, but right then he couldn’t think of any. He was just…so down. 

Jeez, if he felt this bad when Lisa just had a sprain, how badly had Raph felt when Jo was in the hospital? Suddenly all of his brother’s crazy reactions seemed perfectly sane. 

The call kept up for a long while, eventually getting swapped to speakerphone so Sam could join in on the conversation, and it slowly had Mikey recovering. Lisa must be fine, he decided, or she wouldn’t be trading jabs with her brother so much – in between cooing at Mikey’s concerns and teasing him. 

Normally she didn’t flirt so much (not that he was complaining) and he got the impression she was doing it on purpose to prove something to Sam. So, being the good boyfriend he was, Mikey went ahead and threw his own comments into the mix as normal, pretending like the big brother wasn’t even there. 

He heard Sam fake-vomiting a lot over the next hour. 

Then, _finally,_ they were interrupted by Sam’s phone ringing. Swapping the call back from speakerphone, Lisa proceeded to give Mikey a play-by-play on what Sam was doing and saying. 

The short version: it was his boss, Brandon. He was calling in his four best employees (Sam was one) to help with clean-up and reconstruction, now that the police had finished their job. Sam complained a lot as he got ready and left, ending with telling Lisa to stay right where she was (the living room couch) and not get up until he came back. 

She gave him a patronizing, “Yeah, mm-hmm, I promise.” 

As soon as Mikey heard the door shut over the phone, he was on his feet. “I’m comin’ over,” he told her. 

“What? No,” she denied, a measure of panic to her voice. “It’s daytime – you can’t be out now!” 

“Watch me.” 

“Mikey, no!” 

“I’m goin’.” 

“Uh-uh – don’t make me call your Dad.” 

“He doesn’t have a phone,” Mikey pointed out. 

“Jo does,” Lisa returned. 

_Crap._ She had a point there.  

Relenting, he replied, “Fine – but I’m comin’ over later tonight.” 

“Sam’ll be home by then,” she told him. 

“I can be quiet.” 

_“Can be,”_ she echoed dryly. 

“Lisa, I’m a ninja. It won’t be a problem. And anyway I need to…I need to make sure you’re okay,” he told her, sincere. He was _really_ concerned. “I need to be there.” 

She was quiet for a moment, digesting that, before sighing. “Okay, but wait until ten, okay? Sam’s usually in bed by then.” 

_Deal._

* * *

It was a good thing Mikey was so great at entertaining himself or he’d be so bored right now. Waiting until nine-ish so he could leave to visit Lisa would be torture otherwise. But as it stood, Mikey had no trouble goofing off, pestering his brothers, and overall keeping in motion. 

He still checked the time almost incessantly and was disappointed whenever less than half an hour had passed (which was every damn time), though. 

At one point he tried taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon, just to let some more time pass, but it didn’t really work. He ended up quietly playing video games for a few hours while everyone else slept. 

The downside? He was at the point where he couldn’t play anything without thinking about Lisa all the time. Thoughts about what she would do or say at this part of the game, which tactics she would use, which parts would be easy for her and which ones would be hard…they just kept going around in his mind. 

The bright side was that it kept a smile on his face the whole time, though. Plus a steady stream of texts was exchanged, which made everything much more fun. He was happy just to get Lisa’s comments about something funny or weird she saw on TV and her DJ-type thoughts that were never too far away. 

But the best part of the evening (before leaving for Lisa’s) happened during dinner. Jocelyn picked up some pizzas on her way home from her job and the group hung out in the living room, chatting, watching basketball and slowly devouring their bounty. 

Then Jo side-eyed Leo and commented, “Soooooo?” 

He glanced at her, caught her smirk, and immediately looked away again. “So?” he echoed. 

All gazes went to the eldest. There was a strain to his tone – and Mikey picked up on a kind of reluctance. What was going on…? 

Grinning, Jo replied, “Cassie’s my b-f-f, Leo. She tells me everything. Confess…or I’m gonna tell everyone–” 

Leo reached over, clamping a hand over her mouth; Raph, on her other side, braced an arm on the back of the couch, giving his brother a look of warning. 

Whether Leo was swayed by that or not, Mikey couldn’t tell, but Leo relented all the same. As he withdrew (Jo was chuckling), he swept his gaze over his curious brothers, then began, “I walked Cassie home last night.” 

“This morning,” Jo corrected. 

Leo gave her a look. Then, brushing that aside, he awkwardly went on, “We, uh…we held hands.” 

As his gaze wandered the breadth of the floor, everyone processing that, Mikey blurted, “Wait – you and Cassie? You’re together?” 

Wincing, Leo answered, “I’m actually not sure about that…” 

Jo punched his shoulder. “You’re together,” she confirmed. “Cassie was pumped, you know. She really likes you.” 

Leo bit his lip on a grin, struggling to keep his face straight. It took a second and a swallow to manage the feat. 

Now _Mikey_ was pumped. Three out of four! He couldn’t help sending a huge smile Donnie’s way, feeling so hopeful right then it was crazy. First Raph, then Mikey, now Leo – it couldn’t take much longer for Donnie to find a girl, too. 

Who knows, maybe then Splinter would find someone, as well. It was worth hoping for. 

The weird thing, though? Jo was at the center of all this – Lisa and Cassie were two of her best friends. It made Mikey wonder if she was the luckiest girl alive, a kind of natural matchmaker or beacon or something. 

Leaning over towards Leo, Mikey gave his brother’s shell a slap. “Congrats, bro!” And, yeah, maybe he was a little sore, too – he’d once crushed on Cassie, after all, only to get rebuffed. 

Sure, that was a good thing and all (he couldn’t imagine a relationship with her when he had nothing but Lisa in his head anymore), but it was still a little irritating. Cassie had kept saying how she wasn’t interested in them; evidently she’d changed her mind. 

Whatever – he was happy the two of them had gotten together. 

Leo gave a little flinch at the positive words, obviously still awkward about it, yet he was smiling at the same time. 

Donnie, meanwhile, wasn’t even looking their way. He was just idly devouring a slice of pizza, eyes on the TV. 

Concerned, Mikey asked, “You okay, bro?” 

It took a moment for Donnie to react, glancing over; by then everyone else had turned their gazes to him, too. Suddenly finding himself the center of attention, Donnie demanded, “What?” 

“I asked if you were okay,” Mikey told him, his unease rising. What was going on in the genius’ head right then? 

Giving everyone a quick look, Donnie replied, “Sorry – I wasn’t paying attention. What happened?” 

A lie. Mikey could tell at once – Donnie was a _terrible_ liar and always had been. That was why, whenever he’d had to keep a secret in the past, he’d usually chosen to just shut up instead. It just went against his nature to give falsehoods of any kind. 

He’d heard everything, Mikey was sure of it. He was just playing dumb. 

The question was why. 

Speaking gently, Jo explained, “Leo and Cassie got together. Last night.”

“This morning,” Leo corrected dryly; Jo elbowed him. 

“Oh,” Donnie said, clearly faking enthusiasm. He gave a thumb’s up. “Great news. Happy for you, bro.” 

His flagging tone said otherwise. Awkward, the room descended into silence; then, thinking of Donnie’s dance partner from last night, Mikey asked, “What about you and that Leia?” 

“Leia? Oh, her,” Donnie replied, this time genuinely surprised. “Yeah, uh…I talked with her a little. She…” Wincing, he confessed, “She said Star Wars was better than LotR cause LotR fans are all virgin neckbeards who stink of Cheetos.” 

Jocelyn arched a brow, face screwed up in disgust. “Seriously?” 

Rolling his eyes, Donnie confirmed, “Yeah. I mean I kind of liked her, but…picking on other fans just cause they’re fans of different things? Deal-breaker.” 

Well, that blew, Mikey thought. Aloud, he said, “Gotta pity the haters – they miss out on a lot of good stuff.” 

Giving a little smile, Donnie nodded, agreeing, “Yeah. Doesn’t even know what she’s missing.” 

“Like Legolas?” Jo checked, smirking. “Damn sexy elf.” 

Raph harrumphed. 

“Look at you, turning green on me,” she teased. 

He gave her a look; she kissed the air. 

Mikey was happy for the distraction. He’d been getting seriously worried about Donnie, well aware of how his brother ticked. Donnie had always felt somewhat separate from them, after all, and Mikey knew a good part of the reason Donnie worked so hard was to make himself valuable to their family – to forcibly keep himself _in_ the family. 

As if any of them would ever push Donnie away. 

Which was why this event – Leo getting a girlfriend – left Mikey a bit concerned for his brilliant older brother. For someone who already felt a little isolated from the rest, remaining single while everyone else got together with someone…it could be devastating. 

And it was clear Mikey wasn’t the only one worried about this. He could see the hesitations, the caution, in everyone present. Walking on eggshells to avoid distressing Donnie… 

No wonder Leo had looked so reluctant to talk about this; he must have anticipated Donnie would react negatively. 

Offering another distraction, Mikey ventured, “So if we’re giving updates and whatever–” 

He was interrupted by Jo bursting out laughing. Surprised, everyone turned their gazes to her; after a moment she composed herself enough to explain. 

To Mikey, she said, “You just said ‘and whatever’. You know, the thing Lisa says?” 

It took him a second to realize she was right. Then, amused and heartened, he grinned. He’d copied her verbal tic? That was so cute! He had to tell Lisa about that… 

Putting that aside, though, he went on, “Anyway, Lisa got hurt. Sprained her ankle.” 

“Aww,” Jo whined. 

“She okay?” Raph asked. 

Nodding, Mikey explained, “She said she tripped. She has a couple bruises but her ankle’s the worst part. She’s guessing it’ll take three weeks to get over it.” 

Leo checked, “Will she have to stay away until then?” 

“Dunno. I’m gonna talk to her about that later,” Mikey told him. “Which reminds me, I’m leavin’ at nine to go see her. Wanna make sure she’s really okay,” he added to himself. 

“She’s okay,” Donnie assured him. “Medically-speaking sprains are barely worse than bruises. She just needs to be gentle on her ankle while the ligaments heal. There shouldn’t even be any surface damage to worry about, so there’s no chance of getting infections in the meantime.” 

Mikey was _almost_ amused by that explanation; he knew what a sprain was. They _all_ knew what a sprain was. They’d had enough injuries over their lifetimes – cuts, bruises, breaks, dislocations, and of course, sprains – for all of them to have a mental encyclopedia on the subject. 

He was fully aware of the damage of a sprain and the methods for helping them heal. He didn’t need Donnie to tell him all about it. Still, he was glad Donnie had spoken up, going into Doctor Mode; it would be a helpful distraction, Mikey thought. 

The only thing he was still worried about – aside from the constant fear that Lisa was downplaying her injury so she wouldn’t stress him – was the fact that she was human. Taking three weeks to heal from _anything_ was a bizarre concept for Mikey; none of them had ever taken that long to heal before (except for when they’d had their blood drained that one time; they’d needed _months_ before they were back up to full power after that). 

He wasn’t sure he could wait so long for his girlfriend to recover. It’d been hard enough just waiting for Jo to heal from her attack; he was going to go crazy waiting for Lisa. He didn’t even know things like what she could and couldn’t do, what amount of care she’d need, what milestones she’d get. 

He was used to watching himself and his brothers heal so fast that it could be seen visibly occurring. Watching Lisa and seeing no progress, even after hours had passed… 

God, that was going to be stressful. He’d just have to trust in her, he supposed; he’d have to believe her when she told him everything was okay and she was healing. 

In the meantime he fully planned on filling any and all roles she’d need of him. 

* * *

Lisa was nodding off when a distinct tapping got her attention, snapping awake again as she puzzled it out. At first she thought it was her laptop making noise, but the laptop was off at the moment; she always turned it off before she went to bed. 

And the sound was coming from her left, not her right. But there was only a window that wa–

_Mikey._

Wincing, feeling extremely stupid at the moment for forgetting, she pulled the drapes and blinds aside, careful not to shift too much as she did so. Her ankle was constantly aching, after all, and the last thing she needed was to jostle it. 

The Ace bandages were helping, at least, the pressure slowly inuring her to the pain. 

Annnd yep, there was Mikey, crouched on the fire escape. Moving carefully, she shifted until she could manage the height needed to flip the lock and push the window pane aside, giving him room to get in. 

Grinning, he squeezed in, stepping right over her bed with a little hop and a whispered, “Hey, girl! Miss me?” 

She gave him a smile. Voice low, she replied, “Always.” 

Visibly touched, he leaned in and kissed her, then quietly shut her window and righted the blinds and curtains. 

That actually surprised her a little; how often did he do this, to just know which way to pull on the cords and how? She didn’t get time to think on it, though – as soon as those curtains were back in place he crouched down again to examine her feet. His hands were feather-light as he touched her leg, his brow creasing as he looked at her poor bandaged ankle. 

Then, glancing up, he asked, “Does it hurt?” 

Wincing a little, she answered, “It’s a sprain, of course it hurts.” He was _way_ too sweet, she thought – asking if it hurt? That kind of went without say, yet he’d still asked, probably hoping against hope that her answer would be “no”. 

She hated to break that fragile hope, but she would absolutely never lie to him. 

His face fell, and he leaned in to rest his head on her thigh. Poor sweetie, she thought, reaching out to rub his neck. 

Then, snapping back to ‘Mikey’, he gave a shake and lifted his head again, brightening. “Well, that’s okay, I guess,” he said, though his quiet voice still lacked its usual beat. Moving to sit beside her, he looped an arm around her waist, and she gratefully leaned into him. “It’ll…it’ll heal, right?” he checked. “Yeah, it’ll heal…” 

He sounded so unsure, it was almost comical. Giving him a look, she replied, “Mikey, this isn’t my first sprain. Yeah, it’ll heal. Just relax.” 

He was clearly struggling to stay positive, voice wavering as he pointed out, “Yeah, but you said it’ll take three weeks. It’s a long time, y’know?” 

“For you, maybe,” she chuckled. “For humans, this is normal. _I’m_ normal.” 

He scoffed. “Nah, you’re abnormal and you know it.” 

She snorted. “Way to almost turn that into an insult,” she teased. 

“Hey, it’s not an insult to be different,” he defended. 

“Yeah, it is – when you use the word ‘abnormal’ instead of, like, ‘unique’ or whatever.” 

“Right, good point – you’re uniquely abnormal.” 

She laughed, then quickly clamped her hands over her mouth. Nudging him, she hissed, “Don’t make me laugh, it’ll wake up Sam.” 

He gave her a look of horror. “ _Laughter_ would wake up your brother? What kind of monster is he?!” 

Hushing him, she warned, “Okay seriously, Mr. Ninja, be quiet or I’m kicking you out.” 

That seemed to give him a particular kind of idea, because he bit his lip and side-eyed her. She was already starting to feel a blush creeping up as he replied low, “We could totally make that into a game…” 

She had to fight to keep herself from squeaking as she bit out, “W-what kinda game would that be?” 

He started running his mouth over her neck, murmuring, “The kind where I do stuff to you…at least, until you make a noise. Then you do stuff to _me_ …” 

She shivered, both from the sensation and from the idea. It was shameful, how much that suggestion tempted her – especially considering he’d pleasured the living hell out of her less than a day prior. 

She would’ve expected to be totally content for well over a week after that, and yet… 

Shaking her head, she pulled back, even as she felt crushing regret for doing it. “N-no, baby boy, not now. Not…here.” 

God, that was hard to say – she wished she could get freaky with him in her own damn room, yet she couldn’t. Sooner or later Sam _would_ catch on, and with her luck recently, it would be within minutes. 

Mikey seemed disappointed for barely a second before his attention shifted and he started taking stock of her room. Little by little, he began grinning, catching all the little decorations and setups she had. 

When he noticed a series of cloth butterflies on her wall, he laughed, commenting, “Butterflies!” 

She chuckled. “What? They’re pretty,” she defended. 

Pleased, he gave her cheek a quick, wet smooch; she recoiled with a squealed giggle, wiping at the saliva he’d left behind. 

“You’re so cute, baby girl,” he told her. 

Blushing, she looked away, muttering, “N-nuh-uh.” 

To her surprise, he didn’t argue – instead, he looped his arms around her and churred against her ear, saying simply, “The cutest.” 

Well…damn, now she couldn’t even deny it. He was being far too sweet. And it set the tone for her recovery as a whole: everyone was treating her so well, being gentle and considerate, that she couldn’t even argue with them. She couldn’t say “no, I got it”; she could only accept the care she was given. 

Between Mikey, Sam, Gil, and her coworkers, she barely even had to _walk_. She’d call her boss the day of her injury to let him know what’d happened, but though he’d offered to let her take time off work, she’d denied that. Her job wasn’t difficult on her feet; she spent most of her time sitting in the chair behind the register, anyway. 

She just got a crutch to help keep weight off her bad foot and that was all she needed – yet everyone was catering to her anyway. One of her coworkers, Dustin, was especially bad about this; he never let her up out of the chair if she didn’t need to take a trip to the restroom, to the point where it was getting really weird. She had to talk to Gil about it to get Dustin to chill out. 

At home, Sam was her willing slave (no surprise, there), and she even enjoyed playfully lording over him a bit. But when he went to bed was when Mikey showed up, and after a full night of Sam running to fetch anything she could possibly need, she was pretty sick of it. Mikey doing the same thing – willing or otherwise – was just exhausting. 

The only upside was that by then she wasn’t leaving her room anyway, so he barely had to reach to get anything she could possibly want. 

Time with her boyfriend was spent almost exactly the same way it always had been: with fun and games galore. She set up her SNES when he came by and they played whichever games caught their fancy (on mute, which made for some great hysterics when he started coming up with ad-libbed lines for dialogue sections; she got tears in her eyes just recalling those events) while quietly chatting. 

Lisa’s favorite moment so far was when he decided it’d been long enough and started giving her wandering pets, sly at first but growing bolder by the minute. By the time he had his hands under her top, she’d forgotten about everything else – the game, her wound, even Sam in the next room over. She’d just leaned back and let Mikey bring her to orgasm. 

Sneaky boy, her Mikey. She hadn’t been able to resist messing with him a bit after that, ignoring his little whines (with difficulty; holy shit could he make himself sound needy) while giving “innocent” wriggles. But she could only keep it up for so long, listening to his wordless pleas as her will steadily collapsed. 

Eventually she’d reached back and pet him, too, returning the favor. But afterwards she’d warned him not to do that again; she _really_ couldn’t risk getting caught with him. Though he all but whimpered and complained, he _did_ agree – with the stipulation that after he met Sam face-to-face and made nice, she’d remove the restriction. 

Not seeing that happening in the near future, she’d agreed to that. With the way Sam ticked, she expected the meeting part would take at least another month of her working him over, and the making nice part would take another three. 

Sam was _serious_ about his over-protectiveness. 

Because the SNES and her tiny TV were technically behind her bed, they’d started facing the TV with him sitting up and her reclined against him in her little twin-size bed. This turned out to be problematic because she kept nodding off on him and he never woke her up. She always woke up alone in bed with the window still locked (what the _hell_ , Mikey?!?) but it still bothered her a bit. 

It was rude to just fall asleep on your boyfriend while the two of you were technically on a date. Sort of. 

At least, she woke up alone in bed every time it happened for the first two weeks, anyway…then she woke up in her boyfriend’s arms as he kept trying to hush her brother and her brother was yelling at her to get up. 

When she snapped awake that morning, dread hit her like a sledgehammer. There was Sam, standing in her doorway, eyes wide as he looked between her and her boyfriend as if he were in a horror film. 

So far Lisa had held up her bargain – telling Sam something about Mikey every day – but it was now evident that it’d done no good. 

Sam was freaking out. 

Well… _shit._


	30. Penthouse Date

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

When Mikey woke up, it was to the sound of a door opening. 

At first his reaction was confusion; why was he hearing a _door?_ His room didn’t have a door – it had a curtain. His subway car had doors, yeah, but they were mechanical; they sounded _way_ different. 

Then he heard a yelp, shook himself, and reality came crashing into him. 

He’d stayed the night. Normally he left, but this time Lisa had been clinging to him in her sleep, and he hadn’t been able to muster up the will to abandon her. He figured it’d be fine – he could stay over _once_ , right? Raph had done it with Jo early into their relationship and hadn’t been caught. 

Mikey could do the same. 

Oh, how foolish a hope that had been. 

Now he struggled to lean back far enough to see the doorway beyond his shoulder, getting to see Sam up close for the first time. Yep – brunet with blue eyes, just like Lisa. And was he–? 

Oh, _haha_. Sam was floundering like a fish, eyes as wide as they could be, his mouth making guppy motions as if he were trying to swallow the air. At first his gaze was fixated on Mikey, weak sounds and strangled shrieks escaping him – and then he spotted Lisa on Mikey’s chest, still sound asleep. 

_Fuck._

Acting quick, Mikey put a finger to his lips and hushed sharply, “Shh!!” 

The sound Sam made was some cross between a whimper and a squeak; then, shaking himself, he forced out, “L-L-Lisa! W…wake up!” 

He looked so _stuck,_ it was almost comical. Almost as though the doorway was some kind of barrier, Sam wouldn’t cross it, despite obviously trying to. He kept hedging forward, stopping, backing almost into the wall behind him, and repeating the process. 

If Lisa’s rest weren’t an issue, Mikey would’ve woken her up to watch this with him. It was hilarious, how Sam’s hands would reach out, recoil, flail, cross, and then start over again. It was so robotic, so broken – one of the most amusing reactions Mikey had received during a first meeting. 

As it stood, though, he didn’t want her rousing; she was technically still recovering from her sprain, unable to quite walk smoothly yet. Maybe he was just being ridiculous in his caretaking at this point, but he wanted her resting as much as possible while her wound stitched. 

Thus, Mikey hushed Sam again, “Dude, _shh!_ Let her sleep!” 

Little by little the big brother’s voice was steadying, allowing him to yell louder _despite_ Mikey’s orders on the subject. “Lisa, c’mon! There’s a – _shit_ – there’s a…fuck, I don’t know! _Get up!”_

Well…that hurt. Sure, it always did, but getting the “I don’t know” was at least a lesser pain than “monster” was. Sam had that in his favor – for the moment. 

Mikey warned, “Sam – first, I’m a turtle. Second, I’m Mikey. _Me._ The boyfriend. Lisa’s fine, dude, just let her sleep.” 

By now Sam was forcing himself into the room, sandwiched against the wall as he tried to get around Mikey to reach Lisa. The way he moved, though…one hand hesitantly outstretched…it made Mikey feel more like a snake someone was trying to get around.

He was tempted to lash out, snatch Sam’s wrist, and make a point. He was honestly considering it when Lisa shook herself awake. 

_Darn it._

Giving Sam a withering glare, Mikey complained, “C’mon, bro, you woke her up – after I said not to.” 

Not listening one bit, Sam suddenly lunged, grabbing Lisa by the arm; she jolted, swinging her gaze around to take in the situation; Mikey clamped a hand on Sam’s wrist, refusing to let him just yank Lisa out of bed. 

It’d be bad for her sprain. 

“What’s – _ohmygod,”_ she breathed, catching on to the scene unfolding around her. Paling, she fixed her eyes on Sam, saying, “H-hey…good morning…” 

Sam was frozen right then, fearfully looking from Mikey to Lisa and back. He clearly had no idea what to do now that his hand was caught. He choked out, “L-Lisa, you’re…you have a…t-turtle…? In your bed…” 

Hearing Sam say ‘turtle’ was actually a bit of a relief for Mikey; step one had been cleared! Usually this was the hardest part: getting a stranger to recognize what he was, to hear him when he said he was a turtle. Sam had caught on quick, proving that some part of him was listening. 

That was a damn good sign. 

Giving Mikey a look, Lisa agreed, “Uh, yeah, I do…” Then, wincing, she pulled away from Sam’s grip, complaining, “Hey, ow! That hurts, Sam!” 

Whether Sam didn’t care or was too tense to react to that, Mikey didn’t know, but the fact that Lisa was in pain was enough to get _him_ to act. He squeezed Sam’s wrist until the digits loosened, letting Lisa wrench her arm free – but it obviously hurt Sam as well, because the brunet yelped and jerked back, slamming into the wall and tripping over a laundry basket in the process. 

He went down like a dude on an unbalanced skateboard. 

Mikey might’ve laughed, but he didn’t dare right now – not unless Lisa found it funny, anyway. 

She did not. 

Sighing, she sat up and swung her legs off the bed, rubbing at her face. As Sam recovered, shaking himself and wincing as he massaged a wrist, she gave him this withering, tentative look. 

Unsure of what to say? That was fine – Mikey had been around this block a hundred times by now. He knew the right things to say. 

Usually. 

Aiming to break the ice, he started with a clap and a light, “Well, who’s hungry? I’ll pay.” 

The joke did its job of making Lisa smile, though Sam now just looked confused. It was better than terror and panic, at least. 

Turning to her brother, Lisa began, “So, uh, this isn’t how I planned on you two meeting, but…Sam, Mikey. Mikey, Sam.” She bit her lip, wincing, then confessed, “And this is why I told you I couldn’t talk about him.” 

The fall seemed to have done Sam some good, because he was slowly calming. He was still clearly concerned, but the fear was fading. 

In its place, Mikey saw disapproval start to form. 

_Two steps forward, one step back…_

Aloud, Sam blurted, “What the hell, Lise…” 

She narrowed her eyes. “‘What the hell?’ That’s the first thing you’re gonna say?” 

“What else am I supposed to say?” he snapped, clambering to his feet. “I-I just…came to wake you up, see if you wanted anything for breakfast, and I find a-a turtle in your bed, and that’s your fucking boyfriend?! _That?”_ he added with a gesture at Mikey. 

Mikey couldn’t stop a glare, that particular word/gesture combo both hurting and aggravating him. He had to bite his cheek on a retort that probably would’ve gotten him in trouble with his girlfriend. 

She was pissed, too; she pushed to her feet and pointed at her door, directing, “Outta my room. Right now. Not a word,” she added sharply when Sam made to argue. “My room, my rules, and I say I can kick you out whenever I want – especially when you just freaking insulted my boyfriend. Out!” 

God damn, that was sexy. Mikey couldn’t help smirking, impressed with how she just backtalked her brother. 

She might be shy and withdrawn most of the time, but sometimes she damn well rallied, and not to sound skeevy but it was _so_ hot. 

Sam clearly wanted to say something, but he bit back the words and stalked from her room, slamming her door so hard the walls rattled. 

Sighing, Lisa turned to Mikey with a wince. “I’m sorry about him,” she told him, “I expected…better. From him. I’m sorry–” 

“Hey, none of that,” Mikey told her, standing so he could hug her close. “None of this is your fault. Anyway, I’ve seen his type before – he’ll be fine, just gotta give him time.” 

She gave him a weak smile. “This isn’t how I envisioned this meeting, but as long as it’s happening, might as well make the best of it, huh?” 

“Yep,” he agreed. “I’m thinkin’ Cartoon Network and pizza.” 

“You’re always thinking Cartoon Network and pizza,” she chuckled. 

“Yeah – cause it’s a great combo,” he defended. 

She laughed. “Alright, you got me there. Anyway, let’s, uh…work this out.” Her eyes said she was worried, so he quickly snuck in a smooch. 

As she giggled, he made her a promise: “Don’t worry, I got this. In no time me an’ your bro will be best buds.” 

She gave him a wincing smile, opening her mouth to argue; he cut her off with a finger on her lips and a stern, “I got this. All _you_ gotta do is look cute and keep him away from his phone. Can you do that for me, Lisa?” 

She had such admiration in her gaze then, it almost slayed him. “Yeah,” she agreed softly, “I can do that. Don’t let me down, baby boy.” 

“Never,” he swore. 

* * *

This was _notably_ different from how Lisa had expected this meeting to go. She hadn’t even thought it would happen in her living room, let alone with Sam looking like he might either pass out or launch into an attack at any second. 

In her hand she held Sam’s cell phone, needing it to ensure he wouldn’t make an impulse call – like to the police. 

Or their mother. 

Sam had tried to force himself between her and Mikey, but she’d put her (non-injured) foot down about it. Right now she was the mediator and _she_ needed to be between _them_. 

Granted, she chose to do this by sticking right to Mikey’s side, but still, she was technically in the middle. 

Now Sam was seated on the couch, alternating between glaring and getting visibly worried, while Mikey and Lisa took up seats on the stools. Then Mikey announced it was time for an “A-M-A”, which non-meme-speaking Sam had been confused about. Lisa had to explain it meant “ask me anything”. 

Sam’s first question? 

“How?” 

Laughing, Mikey began, “Well, you see, when a boy turtle and a girl turtle love each other very much–”

Lisa nudged him, interrupting, “Now’s not the time for jokes, boo.” 

“Aww,” he whined, “that’s my biggest skill. Why you gotta limit me like that?” 

Lowering her voice, she hissed, “Focus. This is important.” 

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Alright, alright.” 

Annoyed, Sam barked, “You two done yet?” 

She rolled her eyes; Mikey grinned, saying, “Never. But anyway, you wanted answers, right?” Gesturing wide, he offered, “Hit me.” 

“But be specific,” Lisa added, knowing well how much Mikey would toy with answers otherwise. 

To her, he muttered, “Ruining all my fun today.” 

“There’ll be time for fun later,” she told him. 

Sam only grew more agitated, watching them. He snapped, “How in the fuck are you a turtle?” 

“Sam,” she hissed, shocked at the cursing. She’d never heard him utter anything bigger than a ‘shit’ before; this threw her off. When had he started with the f-bombs? 

He settled a little at her chastisement, but his expression said he was still tense. 

Mikey ignored the cursing, finally getting serious so he could explain his story. Lisa backed him up by keeping Sam quiet while he spoke, retelling how he and his brothers – and father – had been mutated and grew up in the sewers. When he mentioned being vigilantes, working in tandem with the police force, Sam scoffed; Lisa hushed him. 

“That’s not a joke,” Mikey told him. “There’s a lot going on that people don’t know about. And that’s intentional. People’d freak if they knew,” he added quietly, lost somewhere in his thoughts. 

Concerned, Lisa reached over to stroke his arm, offering what comfort she could with her brother still watching them. Mikey gave her a little smile; good enough. 

Sam was quiet for a moment, digesting all this, before he demanded, “How’d you two meet?” 

“Birthday party,” Lisa answered. 

“She was the DJ,” Mikey confirmed, grinning at her. 

She lifted her chin, feeling just a _little_ haughty right then. Hell, yeah, she’d been the DJ, and she prided herself for having provided some awesome tracks during that party. It’d gone fantastically, she thought, and she’d be damned if she didn’t take the credit for her part. 

Baffled, Sam checked, “Hang on, you had a birthday party?” 

Mikey gave him a look. “Uh, yeah. You think Lisa’s the first person to ever know about us?” He scoffed. “Give us some credit, dude. We have dozens of friends. You’re damn right we had a party.” 

Gesturing him, Lisa added, “One of his brothers is with Jocelyn. Remember her?” 

Sam’s eyes bugged out, clearly saying that yes, he did remember her. “Wait – Jocelyn, as in, Jo?” 

“Yep,” she confirmed, grinning. “She helped set it up. The party, I mean. It was pretty cool.” 

Her brother was starting to look overwhelmed, taking all this in. He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair, and finally sat back with a sigh. “Okay,” he said aloud to himself, “fine. No big deal. There’s mutants in New York and my sister is dating one of them. Hah.” 

Mikey and Lisa shared a look, neither quite certain what would happen next. Sam was behaving differently than she was used to, after all, and she couldn’t predict what was going on in his head. She could only offer a shrug when Mikey gave her a _what now?_ look. 

After a second, she ventured, “You okay, Sam?” 

“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t I be fine?” he retorted, swinging a look over at her. “I just found out your mystery boyfriend isn’t even a fucking human–”

“Sam!” she snapped, growing aggravated at his cursing. 

Undeterred, he swept on, “–and does God only knows what on a nightly basis! What’d you expect, that I’d just be cool with this?!” he snapped. 

“Course not,” Mikey answered, hushing Lisa’s reply with a gesture. “I expect you to freak out and make insane demands. Be a big bro. But let me just cut to the chase, here – there’s nothing, literally nothing, you could demand of me that I can’t do.” 

Glowering, Sam shot back, “What if I demanded you bring her the moon?” 

Mikey chuckled. “Dude, you have any idea how vague that is? Easy peasy.” 

Sam glared at him, then turned a look to Lisa, some nonspecific query on his face that she couldn’t quite figure out. 

Shrugging, she offered, “No, I’m with him – that _was_ really vague. That could be anything from a song to, like, a magnet and whatever.” 

Huffing, Sam got up and came a few steps closer, crossing his arms with an annoyed, “Neither of you are getting this, are you? This can’t work out – you’re not the same species!” 

“So?” Lisa and Mikey answered in unison. They shared a glance and laughed, amused; Sam glared harder. 

“No,” he told them. “I’m saying no. You,” he said to Mikey, “get out. And you,” he added to Lisa, “we gotta talk.” 

Mikey didn’t move and Lisa just arched a brow, silent defiance in both of them. As seconds ticked by and Sam realized they were outright refusing to cooperate, he started to turn red. 

Wow. She hadn’t seen him change colors like that since the deal with Chain. But rather than freak out – or even acknowledge what was happening – she turned her attention to her boyfriend. 

“Now a good time to order that pizza?” she asked. 

He snapped his fingers. “Good thinking! But no anchovies,” he added when she started to look up a pizza place on her phone. “I mean it. If you put anchovies on it, you’re in big trouble.” 

“I’m not gonna put anchovies on it,” she chuckled. 

As she started to order, even checking with Sam to see if he wanted his own, her brother steadily went from enraged to dumbfounded. She could see him starting to get the idea that he couldn’t win against the two of them, and as this was an issue he couldn’t beat into submission, he was lost as to how he was supposed to proceed. 

He gave a vague answer including the words ‘medium’ and ‘sausage’, then turned his attention to Mikey while she finished the order. He inclined his head; the two males stepped to the side. Lisa absently watched them as they spoke low, obviously trying to keep her from hearing the conversation – thing was, Sam was standing a full arm’s length away from Mikey. 

They had to speak up just to be heard by one another. It was almost comical, and it grew more so when Mikey started stage-whispering – intentionally letting her hear his side of the talk. 

“Dude, what?” A pause. “Um, yeah, but that’s not my fault–” Sam cut him off with a hissed response; Mikey replied dryly, “See, now you’re just making up stuff.” 

When Sam went on, Lisa got a front-row seat as something in Mikey snapped, his patience dying in a second. 

“You think I chose this?!” he snapped, gesturing wide. Sam kept trying to hush him, sending panicked looks at Lisa, but Mikey was on a rampage at this point. He went on, “Lemme swap this around – did _you_ choose to be born? No? Didn’t think so – neither did we! We didn’t pick which little girl bought us or whether or not we’d be part of some shitty experiments, this shit happened _to_ us – get it?” 

Order placed, Lisa hobbled over to them, concern making her caress her boyfriend in the hope of easing his distress. 

He glanced at her, and something akin to shame descended. But he shook it off and told Sam firmly, “I didn’t choose to be a freaking mutant, dude. I’m stuck. You think it’s hard accepting me, just imagine how hard it was for me to accept _myself_. It’s a struggle – and it never ends. But y’know what?” 

When Sam didn’t answer beyond shaking his head, Mikey finished, “My life’s gotten a ton better since Lisa came into it. I love her, dude – more than anything. I told you this. You’re not gonna be able to push us apart. I need her, man.” 

Heartened, Lisa smiled at him, feeling her eyes fill. That whole speech made her emotional as hell, and it was at that moment – taking in his words about self-acceptance – that she finally admitted it to herself. 

She was in love. 

Things calmed down after that. They moved to the couch – a tight fit for three – with Lisa sandwiched in the middle to intentionally keep the boys from fighting. They chatted, letting Mikey and Sam get to know each other, as they flipped through channels and half-watched TV. 

The first break occurred when the pizzas arrived, and Sam handled paying for it. Mikey didn’t even need to hide; the pizza guy stayed outside the room the whole time, and even if he hadn’t, Mikey told her that he knew a lot of the pizza delivery guys already. He was pretty sure he recognized this one’s voice. 

Then, as they went about devouring their breakfast, Sam was informed that Mikey was not only a gamer, but a freaking amazing gamer. Taking that as a challenge, Sam immediately suggested some rounds of Call of Duty. 

Lisa moved aside then, well aware how animated _both_ of them could get during games, and got to watch as they slowly started to bond – over video games. 

It was _so_ sweet. 

Unfortunately it didn’t last long; Sam had to leave for work soon after, and he left with a warning. 

“If I find out you ever took advantage of my sister, I’ll turn you into soup.” 

Mikey snorted. “Gee, never heard that one before.” 

That brought Sam up short, and he hurried off without another word. Lisa met Mikey’s gaze then and they both laughed, amused. 

“So,” she began, “now that you’re stuck here all day, what do?” 

He gave her a little smirk. “I can think of a few things…” 

She rolled her eyes. “Geez, why so horny all the time?” she demanded. 

“I didn’t say I was horny,” he pointed out. “I mean, I am, but I didn’t _say_ it. You thought it all on your own. The real question is why’re you denying that _you_ are?” 

That had her biting her lip, thinking again that she was totally in love with this weirdo. She just didn’t think she was quite ready to say it aloud, yet – especially not with her ankle still giving warning throbs every time she tried to walk normally on it. After all, she fully expected Mikey would demand sex (in the sense that he’d whine, plead, and give puppy eyes) when she told him and she’d feel horrible for having to turn him down. 

No, best to keep that a secret for now. 

Only…now that she was thinking about it, she suddenly realized that she didn’t really know how she felt about the whole “sex” thing anymore. It wasn’t scary like it’d been before, but something still had her hesitating. Oh well – now wasn’t the time to think about that. 

She replied, “The really real question is why’re you so sure _I’m_ the horny one?” 

“Besides the way you keep eating me up with your eyes?” he checked. 

She snorted. “That’s your reflection, baby boy,” she chided. 

He chuckled. “Oh, yeah – that’d be why I was seeing all the sexy biceps, too.” He flexed as he spoke, admiring his own muscles, and Lisa laughed…while eating him up with her eyes. 

Damn, he looked good right now. Maybe she _was_ horny…

Opting to _not_ say anything about that, she instead asked, “So when are you going back?” 

“After dark,” was his easy answer, though the displeased look in his eye said he didn’t want to. He came up to where she was seated on a stool, slipping an arm around her. “Was thinking I could take you back with me, actually. Your foot’s good enough for light travel now, right?” 

Chuckling, she corrected, “My foot’s been good enough for _light_ travel this whole time. You were the one convinced I wasn’t,” she pointed out. “Anyway, I like that idea. I miss visiting your home.” 

Grinning, he said, “It’s a date.” 

* * *

Date night!! 

A super extra special date night, too – it was almost December, now, and snow was on the forecast. It was a fifty-fifty chance whether it was going to be snow or rain, though, but either way Mikey had a _plan._

He’d been waiting for the clouds to come back for a while now, hoping for one more day of rain before they were swamped with snow. Why? Because Lisa loved rain, and ever since discovering that he’d been desperate to take her on a date out in the rain. 

He’d been given some advice about this date, too, his brothers suggesting tips so he could ensure Lisa didn’t freeze or catch a cold or anything. First thing on his list: hot drinks, kept in thermoses. Second thing: take her somewhere where it’d be easy to reach a shower afterwards to wash off the cold. 

He had _just_ the place in mind. 

They met in the sewers as usual, Mikey pushing the manhole cover out of the way so she could hop down. And _damn_ she looked cute today, all bundled up to fight the cold. She even had a beanie on, the first time he’d seen her with one, and it made her easily the cutest thing he’d ever beheld. 

He gave her a quick smooch right off the bat, just to communicate to her that she was freaking adorable. 

She giggled, recoiling, and nudged him. “Nice to see you, too,” she teased. 

Nuzzling her hair – her _brown_ hair? She’d dyed it! – he purred, “Missed you.” 

She usually said something like _you always do_ ; this time she snuggled in, replying, “Yeah? Me, too.” 

_Ugh_ that was too sweet! It’d been a while now, but he felt a sudden _swoon_ go through him. 

“So,” she began, withdrawing, “what’s the plan tonight?” 

He grinned. “It’s a surprise,” he told her. 

Her eyes lit up. “Yeah?” she prompted. 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah?!” 

“Yeah!” 

Giggling, she nudged him again. “Then let’s get going! I’m _so_ ready to start staying out late again.” 

He could understand that; she’d been more or less stuck thanks to her ankle this whole time – namely because she’d tripped at work when the sprain was in its final hours and managed to extend the recovery by almost a whole week. She was finally over it now, able to hop and skip and dance around, and she’d straight-up told him she absolutely had to work off her month-long energy build-up or it’d drive her crazy. 

Which was why today’s date included a lot of physical activity – okay, yeah, his dates _always_ included a lot of physical activity, but this time he’d picked it special for his cute little darling dove. 

…On second thought, he was _not_ using that nickname for her again. He might use it on Leo, though. 

Okay yeah, that was a way better idea. 

Putting that aside, he took Lisa by the hand, declaring, “Right away, milady! And by the way,” he added, “I brought stacks and drinks.” 

Laughing, she pointed out, “You _always_ do. You got me expecting it, I don’t even bring stuff for myself anymore. You’re spoiling me rotten.” 

Hearing her say that delighted him somehow. 

He led her through the Subway, going by board cause it was faster than waiting for the trains at this distance, to a particular exit. This area was packed full of extra-tall buildings, one of which had a particular penthouse where the owner was currently in prison on fraud charges but was still paying for the room. 

It was always empty except for the maid that came by once a week to dust. 

Raph had taken Jo here for Valentine’s this year, and now Mikey was taking Lisa there for their own date. It was practically a vacation spot by now. 

He had her hang onto him while he climbed up the building, a process that was more difficult than he’d anticipated. He was used to climbing stuff beside Lisa, not carrying her up while she clung to his shoulders and hips, but he wasn’t worried. 

If anything, he was soaking up her warmth and enjoyment, liking the way she kept glancing around and grinning. 

“How ya doin’?” he asked when he was halfway to the top. 

Her eyes were bright as she replied, “Great! My heart’s pounding all crazy, I love it.” 

_That’s my girl._

He gave her a smooch, then continued the ascent. Twice he caught her suddenly grabbing her beanie to keep it from being tossed by the wind, giggling all the while, and it legit tickled his heart. 

She was _so_ fucking cute, it wasn’t fair. 

Soon enough they reached the top, and by then she was looking cold but delighted. She rubbed her glove-clad hands together, looking around at where he’d deposited them. The pool – the _heated_ pool – was covered right now, but he was willing to do away with the tarp if she wanted a swim. 

“This is incredible,” she breathed, turning her gaze from the outdoor seating to the pool to the three-story-high glass windows on one side. Inside displayed a fancy apartment with stairs leading up to all three floors, everything in crisp whites and blacks with only a few touches of blue here and there. 

It was modern as modern could get, everything so angular and shiny – Mikey hated it, but as long as it made Lisa happy he could care less about his own opinions. 

Sliding up to her, he pulled her close, saying, “The best is yet to come.” 

She tilted her head, intrigued. “Yeah? How’re you gonna make all this even better?” 

Grinning, he hinted, “Did you catch the weather forecast today?” 

Her eyes lifted to the sky, took note of the clouds, then zeroed in on him with increased excitement. “No way – is it gonna snow?” 

“Might,” he offered. “Smells more like rain, though.” Now that he was up here, so high up off the ground, he could really get a good whiff. 

That definitely smelled like rain. 

And Lisa freaking _lit up_ , grinning wide and hopping on her toes. “Ohmygosh, rain, really?!” Then, looking up at the sky again, she shouted, “Quit teasing me!” 

He chortled, arms tightening around her. Then, joining in, he yelled at the clouds, “C’mon, you heard her!! Zeus, quit playin’ and give us the loot!” 

She laughed. “Loot, seriously?” 

He shrugged. “First thing that came to mind. Anyway, c’mon, while we wait…” 

The door inside was already unlocked, and he led her inside to the freaking _amazing_ entertainment stand. The TV set was 4k and it came with DirecTV, Netflix, Hulu, and a DVD player. Earlier Donnie and Mikey had both been here, setting up a Switch, PS4, and XboxOne – he planned on letting Lisa decide _all_ of the night’s activities so he’d made sure to get one of each platform for her. 

On the other side of the room was a monster stereo setup, and wireless speakers were all over the entire penthouse. He showed her each thing in turn, letting her make an informed decision, and soaked up her excitement in the meantime. 

She was _thrilled,_ and it made him both elated to be sharing this with her and a little sad that he couldn’t give her all this, himself. 

He’d bet she’d love to live in a place like this, it just wasn’t something he could provide or – he thought – she’d ever be able to afford on her own. 

Once she’d been given a tour, she turned to him and jumped on him, laughing. All too glad to have her affection, he caught her and gave her a deep, firm kiss. 

She _moaned._

God damn, that was sexy. 

Then, drawing back, she asked, “So what’s for dinner?” 

“Whatever you want,” he answered automatically, already having forgotten that he had a plan for that, too. “Uh, I mean – it’s in the fridge. C’mon, I’ll show you.” Taking her hand, he led her to the kitchen, then swung open the _massive_ fridge’s doors so she could take a look. 

It was empty except for what Mikey had put in there, since the owner of this place didn’t exactly keep it stocked while he wasn’t here. And although he’d brought three options for her, his goal was presented on the center shelf: fish. 

Specifically, fish for sushi. 

Surprised, she tilted her head, reading the labels aloud: salmon, tuna, yellowtail, shrimp, and mackerel. 

“Fish?” she checked, face screwing up. 

“Yep,” he agreed, grinning. 

She winced. “I don’t like fish, remember?” 

Oh, he remembered – that was the point of this. “You said you’re willing to eat fish, you just don’t like the taste,” he said. 

“Yeah – I don’t like it,” she hinted. 

“Trust me,” he prompted. “I’m making sushi – it’s totally different from regular fish. Tastes nothing alike.” 

Still uncertain, she checked, “Really?” 

“Really. Promise, cross my heart and hope to die,” he told her. “But, hey, if you don’t like it, I brought stuff for pasta and a ton of veggies, too.” 

She nodded, thoughtful, and after a moment offered, “Okay, well, no promises, but I’ll give it a try. I trust you.” 

_Ugh_ , arrow to the freaking heart! 

Growing excited, he gave her a quick kiss and then guided her to the bar. He got out the packages, revealed that he’d already made a big pot of steamed rice, and posed for her, knives in hand. 

_“Meshiagare!”_ he said. 

She giggled. “W-what was that?” 

He winked, refusing to translate that one, and got to work. 

She was going to _love_ this, he knew it.


	31. Join Me

**Rating:** XXX (swearing/explicit sexual content) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Mikey was an incredible guy, and Lisa was surprised to find that he was _still_ showing her just how incredible he was months after they’d met. 

He’d given her two new such moments just tonight – first by taking her _here_ , to this amazing place with its gorgeous aesthetic, and then by making her _sushi_ , of all things. Having never tried it before, she was going into it blind and trusting that he knew what he was talking about – as well as how to prepare it. 

She’d heard things about sushi, after all, and one thing was that it was _really_ easy to make bad sushi. As in, need-an-ambulance bad. It made her understandably nervous, even despite her trust in her boyfriend. 

Accidents happened. 

But she found – much to her surprise – that it was _good_. She was especially worried that the lack of meat in her diet would make her too sensitive to even have fish, but she supposed that would come to light later, if at all. In the meantime, she found herself enjoying the meal. 

Not just because of the food, either, but because he was making her laugh the whole time. It started with him taking off his mask and then putting a wrapped-up white bandana around his head sideways and continued through a series of little puns (”don’t make me _fish_ for compliments”, “this is a so _fish_ ticated dinner”, “you look _fin_ tastic today”, “should I _scale_ back on the puns”, and so on) and entertaining facts about the history of sushi. 

She learned, among other things, that the timing was everything – literally the time it took for the food to get finished, delivered, and eaten can make a huge difference. Apparently things would taste surprisingly different if she were sitting even a thirty second’s walk from the bar. 

It was bizarre, but also pretty cool. 

Mikey was _so_ good, testing different fish, rice, veggie and seaweed varieties, letting her try out a piece of this and a piece of that, and editing his recipes as he went. Even the way he watched her, so obviously excited yet more straight-up _observant_ than anything, helped this along. 

In no time he’d tossed the shrimp aside (holy _cripes_ she hated shrimp, even like this) and had narrowed down that her preferred fish was salmon. 

Who would’ve guessed? 

It was such a surprise. All of Lisa’s life the only kind of fish she could even tolerate was tuna, and even then only in mashed up, canned form. Finding out she liked _salmon_ was a mind-boggling moment. The last time she could remember trying it had been years ago, in fish-stick form, and it’d been overpoweringly salty (just like every other time she’d dared to taste test any kind of fish). 

Now she was wondering if she’d just had a consistent run of bad luck. After all, the way Mikey made it, she couldn’t taste salt on _anything_ , and it was a real shock to her. Regardless of whether it’d always been bad fish before or sushi just really was that different, though, she was happy with the meal. 

And, she saw, her boyfriend was _significantly_ less picky. Anything she didn’t eat or didn’t like, he just popped in his mouth. Sometimes he put some weird-smelling green stuff on it first ( _wasabi_ , he’d called it), and each time made her scrunch up her nose. 

Maybe she was just that “white”, but she hated spicy stuff as a whole and that _wasabi_ thing made her gag. (Every time she made a gagging noise, Mikey chuckled, so she kept doing it on purpose to keep things light.) 

Now, feeling quite full after her series of taste-tests, she watched as he steadily made (and ate) most of what was left for himself. It was fascinating, watching him slice the fish, press the rice, and roll everything in seaweed. 

“How long have you been making sushi?” she wondered aloud as he deftly cut his newest roll into six pieces. 

He gave a vague “uuhhhh” as he thought on it, then answered, “’Bout three weeks.” 

She stared. “A…are you serious right now?” 

Tossing her a grin, he prompted, “Go on, say it: you’re impressed.” 

Fishing for compliments? She snorted, but couldn’t deny it. With a huff, she admitted, “Yeah, I’m impressed – not that that’s a surprise. You’re so cool, baby boy.” 

If he could smile any wider right then, it’d split his cheeks and he’d need stitches to heal from it. She made the snap decision, then, to keep laying it on (partly because she was curious how long it’d take to make him make those squeaky noises again). 

“I’m serious,” she told him. Laying her cheek on her upraised fist, she started, “It’s like every day you show me something new, and it’s always something rad. I mean, the first day we met you were all like, ‘Hey look at this skateboard, it has a _jet_ ,’ and that totally set things off. Since then it’s always, like… ‘Watch this!’ and you show me something awesome. And when it’s not that, it’s a story or a joke or a song or a date or–” she gestured the bar with a flippant wave “–a crazy awesome meal. What _can’t_ you do? Seriously, I’m curious.” 

Mikey went through a series of increasingly erratic motions as she spoke, starting with tapping a nail on the bar and then going through bouncing in place, shaking his head, cracking his knuckles, and finally he dropped his face into his hands and stared at her through his parted fingers. 

Grinning, she went on, “It’s like every day I’m with you, it’s better than the last. You ever get that feeling? Like there’s no way it could get better, but then it does anyway? Cause I get that, like, all the time,” she told him, “and it’s…it’s always thanks to you. I mean, how cool do you have to be to manage that? It’s like you’re an eleven – out of five,” she hinted. 

He whined, “You trying to get me all embarrassed? Cause it won’t work.” 

So he said, but he looked on the verge of exploding. She’d bet he was fighting to keep from vibrating from excitement. 

“Oh, I know,” she agreed. “You’re really a peacock in a turtle’s shell, I know that. Just wanted to be totally honest for once.” 

The look he gave her then was so bright, so open, so _admiring_ , that she felt her face heat in response. 

She loved this adorable boy. She truly did. But even knowing this, reminding herself of it daily, and constantly feeling for the right moment to say it, wasn’t enough to override her ingrained nervousness. Having him stare like that had always – and probably always will – made her quiver inside. 

In one fluid move, he leaned over the bar, reached out, and tugged her in by the neck to give her a sweet kiss. 

She pushed herself up to meet him, having to get a knee on her stool to manage it, and heard herself moan at the way he locked their lips. She’d missed him and his affection over the last month, especially considering how far they’d gone on Halloween – er, November first. She’d missed his kiss, his touch, the butterflies he invoked with the smallest motions. 

She missed his lips on her neck, his hands on her waist, his eyes focused entirely on her – and, bizarrely, she missed it even more now that she was with him, alone, and knowing she could finally get frisky with him again without threatening her blasted ankle. It was like getting even the promise of his affection was enough to make her hunger grow. 

…And then she got a hint of a sharp flavor and devolved into giggles, withdrawing with a chuckled, “I can t-taste the soy sauce on your lips!” 

He laughed, too, then puckered his lips at her. “Does it make my delicious turtle flavor better?” 

That question wrecked Lisa. She couldn’t even answer it; she burst out laughing, having to halfway curl up on the bar for support. The fit lasted so long she was gasping for air by the time she regained control of herself, slapping at the counter every so often as she struggled to get over it. Mikey just let her have it out, for once doing nothing to compound the hilarity and instead petting at her while she recovered. 

Her stomach both hurt and tickled from her hysterics, and she had to wipe away a tear after all that. Cheeks aching, she forced out, “F-funny, Mikey,” as she got the last of the giggles to stop. 

An endeavor, that. 

Following dinner was _fun!_ Specifically, any kind of fun Lisa wanted, and Mikey verbally went through an ever-increasing list of possible activities as she thought on it. When he mentioned there was a way to hook up her iPod to the stereo, she stopped him there, curious. 

“Seriously?” 

Grinning, he nodded, then walked her through the process. He had all the connectors ready (just two items were required, a plug and a cord), and after showing her how they worked, she happily did so. 

Swapping to one of her [**personal mixes**](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DKJ5d2B7zpso%26list%3DPL4NQZDHelmIb_Afh4paxkRiDaQZA8ZaX-%26index%3D5&t=ODc5Mzc3N2E4ODIwYTJjODA0MzUzMWM1MzEyMmNjYzhkYTVhZjQyMywyeFNIN3B4SA%3D%3D&b=t%3AFXCZxUdc25qjtRd8wytf_Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsultrysirens.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179219746229%2Fthe-dj-part-30&m=0), the music began with the sound of an old radio tuning in (a sound she’d ripped from the game Jet Set Radio Future), then quickly went into a strong, rapid beat. Shifting from side to side, she let the music wash over her, getting a feel for what the beat wanted of her today. 

Mikey, intrigued, asked, “What is this? A mix?” 

Considering she’d added in strips and lines of other songs throughout this mix, she wasn’t surprised he’d gotten that figured out in under thirty seconds. 

Nodding, she explained, “Yeah, one of my faves.” 

She could see him getting into the same zone she was, slowly starting to nod and sway, as he asked, “Yeah? What do you call it?” 

Biting her lip, she answered, “Mikey-Lisa 1.” 

He froze at the words, giving her a shocked look. 

“What?” she demanded, almost offended. “Do you seriously think I wouldn’t make mixes for us? _Me?”_

Grinning, he replied, “Nah, I’m just surprised – did you say _Michelisa?”_

She hadn’t, but the way he’d mispronounced it gave her an idea. She started to smile, correcting, “No, but I like where this is going.” 

He made to dive towards her lips again then, but suddenly stopped himself; halted, a thoughtful look on his face, he checked, “Wait, did you say Mikey-Lisa _1?”_

“Yeah, why?” she wondered. A second later it hit her and she laughed, holding up three fingers for him in a telling manner. 

She’d made _three_ mixes for them. 

They were personal as hell, of course – she’d never even told _him_ she’d made them. The third one, in particular, was dirty with a capital ‘d’, a very recent one she’d made in response to how freaking turned on he could make her and how badly she was starting to want him _sexually_. 

The only reason why she was letting him know about them now was because she wanted to do away with all the little secrets. She wanted him to know how she felt and what she thought. To this end there was no better way to communicate than through her mixes – she put heart, soul and emotion into each one, and none so much as she’d done for the three she’d made for _them._ Heck, she was constantly updating them, too; the files got edited almost every day. These were just the latest completed compilations.  

Three hour-long mixes about joy, affection, and lust, respectively. 

Mikey looked beyond surprised at her answer, even making a show of counting on his own fingers to check what she’d implied. At the end, he held up his palm, face demanding further confirmation. 

Silent, she nodded. 

He broke into a grin and halfway tackled her, giving her a tight hug as he peppered her face in tiny, pecking kisses. Giggling under the onslaught, she held on, so starved for his affection she couldn’t even imagine stopping him now. If anything, after a few moments she started catching his kisses whenever they were close enough to her lips; he teased her, turning it into a sort of game. 

He feinted, led her on, and dodged as she tried to meet him. It had the both of them chuckling and giggling, enjoying the ‘fight’. But it didn’t last long; after a few moments of her chasing after his elusive lips, he surrendered, and a truly heated make-out followed. 

For once, nerves didn’t bother her. She felt nothing along the lines of reluctance or fear, and even her inner doubt remained quiet. It made her feel so _free_ , letting her simply enjoy what was happening without interruption. (Bonus: she hadn’t even had to drink to get to this point. Score!)  

Every touch of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, every stroke of his hands; it all had her heating up inside, aching for more on a constantly increasing slope. And without her crippling self-doubt marring things, what she felt instead was a bone-deep absolute _hunger._ It was a strange sensation, in a way – every encounter they’d had to date had always included an inner struggle on her part. 

Even their mind-blowing Halloween night tryst had included a near-constant war on her part. She’d had to keep fighting down a flight response, though luckily that feeling had been easily smothered from the constant pleasure she’d been given. Still, she hated that she couldn’t have just pushed all that aside. 

By now she was certain she’d have loved having sex with him from day one, had she just been able to erase her fears and commit. It was one of her greatest regrets that she’d always lacked the ability to push past that. But now, though…now she was treated to something wholly different, something seductive and arousing and passionate on a whole different level than anything she’d felt before. 

So _this_ was what it was like to feel lust without fear? 

She might just be addicted. 

With her mix playing in the background, she let herself go, throwing caution to the wind in lieu of getting more of his incredible passion. She was well and truly getting into it, too, when he suddenly stopped, perking up. 

Breathless and achy but concerned at his attentive expression, she whispered, “What is it?” A part of her mind feared it was the thing they’d never encountered but she knew might happen someday: an attack. 

He was, after all, an arch nemesis of numerous criminals and organizations. And lacking citizenship – on top of not even being human – meant those seedy types were free to attempt to murder him without the courts being able to punish them for it. 

Focusing back on her, he slowly gave her a grin. “Rain,” he answered. 

Oh, _snap._

Lisa felt her fears die out and her excitement manage to ramp up even higher, her eyes widening at the prospect ahead of her. Twisting in his arms, she gazed through the nearest window, her attention shifting until she could hear it, too. 

She saw little rivers cascading down the pane, just a few here and there – but the sound she heard promised more to come. 

Delighted, she sent Mikey a happy grin, asking, “Wanna come play in the rain?” 

“That was the plan,” he told her, looking as pleased as she felt. 

Oh, _hell_ yes. 

They removed their shoes, socks, and anything metal or electronic, turned up the music, then threw open the doors and charged out onto the deck. With the doors wide open, music pouring out into the city beyond, they proceeded to play in the rain. 

They stomped in puddles, splashed each other, ran and slid across the slick pavement, and swayed together to her mix. She timed herself using it, knowing exactly how long it was and how many minutes had passed before they’d jumped out into the rain. But even so, she didn’t relent and go back inside until Mikey made her. 

He’d been watching her the entire time, she’d noticed. Every quiver had seemed to get picked up by him, his awareness never quite letting go of her physical state. And, honestly, that was probably a good thing – she might’ve kept going until exhaustion set in if he hadn’t stopped her, the sensation of rain falling on her only adding to her stores of energy. 

It was cold as hell, her breath puffing in the air and leaving her shuddering in no time, but she absolutely refused to stop yet. She was having far too much fun for that. Besides, her boyfriend was warm and always _right there_ , his hands on her at the very least. That was good enough for her. 

Eventually, though, he put his foot down. When he told her they should go in and she argued, whining for “five more minutes”, he hefted her up in his arms and _carried_ her back inside. 

She was shaking like a chihuahua by then, so she relented without complaint and let him have his way. (Besides, she loved being held by him anyway. It was a fair trade.) And she was kind of surprised when he took her straight to the bathroom, turned on the water, and then _left_. 

When she’d figured out where he was taking her, she’d thought for sure he’d ask to join her – or, at least, flirt a little. The fact that he’d left, instead, threw her for a loop; what was he thinking? 

_Probably something way too accommodating,_ she answered herself. He was so used to her demanding privacy and being unwilling to go too far, he’d conditioned himself to stop on a dime. 

The sweetie. 

Lucky for him, then, that she was more than willing to go further right then – hell, she was ready to demand _he_ go further. She wouldn’t be so optimistic as to say she was _confident_ but she was damn well lacking any fear, and this was only enhanced by their romp in the rain. It was as if the water had washed away even the tiniest hesitations she might still have been holding inside her. 

After all that she was fucking _ready_. 

Weirdly, a thread of coyness had her opening the door to call (in between shivers), “M-M-Mikey? I n-need your h-h-help.” 

He was back in a second, having barely taken a few steps away. “What d’you need?” he asked, and she could hear the concern in his tone. Worried about her? 

_Honeybee,_ she thought, starting to associate the endearment with his too-sweet heart. 

Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she explained, “M-my fingers don’t w-wanna w-work. Can’t get t-the zippers.” Her hoodie and pants both bore the fasteners, and though her purpose was to tease him a little, she wasn’t lying – her fingers were so cold they were having a hard time pinching. 

There was no way she’d be able to undress herself. Oh, well; she was sure her boo would be all too happy to handle that for her. 

In fact, she was counting on it. 

* * *

_Can’t get the zippers._

It took a great deal of self-control for Mikey to halt a whine at those words. He’d do anything – _anything_ – to get his hands on Lisa’s seductive body, but he was worried he’d come off as too eager, too needy. If he got too close, started kissing her too deep or touched her too much…if she recoiled…

The way she’d made out with him earlier had nearly slayed him. He’d gotten so aroused it had yet to deplete even after the “cold shower” he’d had thanks to the rain. He wanted nothing more than to lay Lisa down on the bed and just pour all his accumulated desires on her. 

He’d bet she would drown from it all. 

And those words…she might have said “undress me” from the way his dick instantly started throbbing. Yet it’d been so long since their last tryst he couldn’t let himself just _react_ ; by now he knew how reluctant Lisa could be, and the last thing he wanted was to seem forceful with her. He couldn’t pressure her. 

To that end, he tried to be good. He’d been trying all _night_ to be good, keeping her amused and distracted – she hadn’t made it easy on him, but he’d been freaking trying. He kept trying even now, being all-business as he pulled down her zippers and undid the button of her jeans for good measure. 

He caught a sliver of skin between her shirt and pants as he did so, and he must be even more hard-up than he’d thought because that freaking _glimpse_ almost had him diving down to taste her skin. It’d taken a shocking amount of effort to halt himself, body jolting as he caught himself. 

Shaking himself, Mikey forced himself a step back, planning on leaving her to her shower then. 

She caught his hand in both of hers. “W-where you goin’?” she asked. 

_To quickly beat off while you shower,_ he thought; aloud, he answered, “Gonna watch some TV till you’re done.” 

She smiled, looking down, then confessed, “Okay, I get it – I’m teasing too much. Sorry.” 

Um, what? What did that–

Catching his gaze, she murmured, “I’ll just say it, I guess: I want you to join me.” 

His world flipped upside-down. 

Had Lisa, _his_ Lisa, said that just now? She wanted him to hop in the shower with her? Cause the answer to that was _fucking hell yes!_ – but, at the same time, he couldn’t believe it. 

She had to expect he’d get handsy as all hell, yet she’d invited him anyway. It made a ball of excitement hit him right in the chest; was she saying what he _thought_ she was saying? She had to be – and, now that he was thinking about, he had the sudden realization that he’d been acting careful and gentle all night despite not getting the usual signals from her. 

_She_ hadn’t been hesitant or fearful or reluctant. He’d just been treating her like she’d been. 

A sudden eagerness suffused him, yet his voice was surprisingly controlled as he replied, “Love to.” 

Things got hot _fast_ , and not just because of the warm water. He helped her strip – rather, he stripped her, since she couldn’t manage it just yet – tossed off his shorts, then got her under the water. She was freezing to the touch, every last inch of her cold, and she recoiled from the warm shower at first. 

Right into _him,_ which, yeah, he was too happy about. Holding her cold, naked form against him, he went about warming her up with his own body first – though he was totally unable to stop himself from petting and fondling her in the process. 

Her hitched breaths and moans said she was okay with it. 

This was like a dream, having her in a shower with him. Yet every kiss, every touch, confirmed it was true – Lisa’s tongue stud on his neck, in his mouth; her soft skin under his fingers; her sweet voice humming out approvals and seducing him with each one. 

Mikey felt equally drunk and focused as they made out under the water. Soon her shivers ceased, her skin steadily warming again, and he couldn’t help but lavish her with more passion the more she recovered. He went from macking on her as the shower poured over her hair and back to having her pinned against the wall, one hand on her cheek and one on her hip, dazedly murmuring how sexy she was against her neck while he pumped his cock through her hands. 

He wasn’t even sure when that’d happened, but _fuck_ if it didn’t turn him on even worse. 

The water was pouring over his shell and shoulders now, the sensation feeling amazing. Combined with his girlfriend’s tiny, soft fingers caressing his cock and his lips against her _hella_ seductive neck, he was quickly undone. He ached to get inside her, yeah, but he was too weak to stop _this_ ; he made a mental note to make up for it as his climax ripped through him, making him shudder and buck against her. 

And Lisa fucking _moaned,_ her hands squeezing and pulling at him to milk him dry. The pleasure made his head freaking spin, flowing through his veins as his cum coated her belly one lance at a time. 

At the end, when the spasms had ceased and her hands were just softly trailing over his waning erection, he directed on a shuddering breath, “Don’t stop.” 

He wanted this particular tryst to fucking _last,_ and that meant keeping his dick hard all night if he could. He was sensitive as hell, though, body twitching and spasming as she did as bade, her fingers giving him steadily stronger strokes. 

Nuzzling against her, he purred, “Fuck, you’re good,” before he could halt the swear from escaping. 

Lisa didn’t seem to mind, though; she rubbed her cheek against him, the affection hitting him right in the heart. _She loves you so much, bro,_ he told himself. _Just gotta get her to say it._

Then one of her hands retreated, and he watched as it ventured to the mess he’d left on her soft skin. Running a finger across it, she murmured in wonder, “Hotter than the water…” 

He grinned. Then, giving her neck a kiss, he withdrew to catch her ( _fucking gorgeous!_ ) blue eyes, replying, “Made it just for you.” 

Her skin was already pink from the heat, but he still caught her cheeks darkening at the flirt. It should be illegal, how she could look so cute while stroking his cock. 

She bit her lip, then hedged, “A-are you sure you don’t just _make it?”_

“Not anymore,” was his immediate response. “Now? All for you.” 

Something akin to pleasure filled her gaze then, and Mikey was helpless against a need to smooch the living hell out of her at the sight. His hands caught her face, cradling, as he set in, kissing her so deeply and passionately it made his head start spinning all over again. 

Okay – that was enough of the whole shower bit. He had to get her to a bed, get her laid down, so he could tongue-fuck her – over and over again, until she passed out from exhaustion, if he had his way. 

Then she pressed in against him so tight his dick got sandwiched between them and he forgot what his plan had been. Fuck the bed; he couldn’t wait that long to taste her. 

It was hard to tear his mouth away from hers, but he forced it, then dropped right down to his knees. He was so needy right then it hadn’t even occurred to him to ask her for this; lucky for him she had no complaints as he set in, burying his mouth between her legs to suckle at her wet flesh. 

A shudder tore through him as her flavor hit him, as always – no matter how well he tried to remember her taste, it was always stronger and sweeter than he expected. And Lisa gave an answering shudder, hands seizing his head to hold him there. 

They both shifted as he worked her, getting one then both legs over his shoulders to spread her wide open for him. With her pinned against the wall she had support and he had freedom; he pushed his tongue past her folds and inside her, his hands rising to pet at her breasts as he did so. 

She cried out, shivering, arching her back then pivoting her hips towards his mouth in such a sexy writhe he moaned in pleasure from the feel of it. 

Mikey learned two things very quickly: her g-spot wasn’t nearly as sensitive as he’d expected, and she fucking lost it whenever he made any kind of noise, the vibrations making her shudder against him. So, of course, he did it constantly, even going so far as to intentionally keep up a continual churr. 

He had her coming in under a minute, and the way she freaking wriggled and convulsed as she orgasmed was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Between the feel of her walls clamping down on his tongue, her hands clutching him to her pussy, and her body swapping between arches and curls ( _fuck_ her breasts were so big he lost sight of her with every arch! How fucking luck was he?!) he felt on the verge of coming again. 

It took more self-control than he’d known he _had_ to keep from lowering her to his lap and just plunging inside her. Knowing how hot and slick she was right then, he could just imagine how it’d feel to bury his cock in to the hilt. 

As she came down, thighs still twitching, he lowered her anyway, but his goal was only to cuddle her while she recovered. 

He wasn’t expecting her to surge up and thrust her tongue into his mouth right away, nor for her hips to start rubbing their sexes together, and it made him feel a hair’s breadth from a second ejaculation. Catching her hips in his hands to halt her, he broke the kiss (with _extreme_ difficulty and a pathetic whine). 

Trying to form a thought was hard. Trying to voice it was even more so. He had to give himself a shake to perform the feat, brokenly saying, “Lisa – bae – the bed’s–” _in the other room._

She whimpered, shoving a hand between them to grasp his straining cock. “No – don’t stop, I want it,” she said, starting to rub _him_ against _her_. 

Holy shit, who was _this?_ Had a fucking succubus possessed his cute, shy Lisa to turn her into a lusty vixen? Maybe, maybe not; either way he felt _way_ too weak to resist such an invitation. He’d wanted this so bad for so long he felt magnetized, physically incapable of separating from her soft, hot body. 

He groaned, fighting to retain at least a single shred of control. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done – her sopping wet pussy was _right there_ – but he made himself grasp her chin and bring her eyes to his. 

God, his sweet Lisa had such a heated, drunken look to her, and when she focused on him he could see _certainty_ in her steady gaze. He almost drooled. 

“You want this?” he prompted, needing her confirmation. “Say ‘yes’.” 

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hear a single word over the sound of his own pounding heart in his ears, but hell, he could read lips. This was too important to leave even a single shred of doubt; he _needed_ to know that she knew what she was asking for. 

And Lisa didn’t even hesitate. She caught his cheeks, blurted, “Fuck, yes!” and kissed him with such raw _need_ that he had the sudden, acute realization he’d driven her mad from lust. It made his hunger all the worse, feeling ravenous to finally have her – to have _this._

As she’d said: _fuck_ , yes. 

Mikey was far beyond the ability to wait at this point. To hell with the bed; shower sex was just as good. He released her hips, one arm circling her waist; he fisted his cock, angled it; she shifted, drawing her pussy right over the head; then, at last, he breached her. Their motions aligned to make the glide as easy as they knew how, learning as they went, hips pivoting as his dick slowly filled her up. 

She moaned _oh, my god_ as the first inch was gained, then started repeating it at varying volumes. It told him _exactly_ what she was enjoying the most, and had he the mental capacity, he would’ve been making a list of notes. As it was he could barely just hold still, letting her take him at her own speed; she clung to him tight, giving tiny thrusts as their bodies steadily merged. 

She looked dazed yet swamped with pleasure, and he ate up the sight. Every deep gasp and moan was fed directly to his ego – not to mention how her blush managed to keep darkening, flushing everything from her cheeks to her chest a bright pink. 

For his part he could barely move, it felt so good. Groaning, eyes darting from her face to her cunt as it swallowed him up and back, the most he could manage for several moments was to just brace a hand against the wall and struggle to keep from immediately blowing his load. It only grew worse when he felt her dig her heels into his shell, pulling herself even closer and forcing his cock to gain another inch. 

_Hot – soft – wet – tight – good_ – 

His mind was all but broken, stuck in a loop of noting sensations and nothing else. A part of him kept trying to desperately remind him who he was with and how to pleasure her, but he couldn’t so much as form a coherent thought, let alone put together a plan of attack. 

Soon his stun wore off, though, and his hips started a slow pattern as it did so. Each one grew in speed and depth and eventually drew him back up to his knees. Spurred on by the gasping, pleasured cries of his girlfriend, he let himself drown inside her. 

At least, until he heard her cry out, “Mikey!” 

He wanted to make this last – and, by extension, not embarrass himself – so when she said his name like that and he felt his dick give a powerful, threatening pulse, he immediately withdrew, pulling out of her. His plan was to wait a minute, control his breath and his racing heart, and then go back at it with (hopefully) a bit more lasting ability. 

Hell, he had a loose plan to keep doing this until he’d made her orgasm a dozen times – wouldn’t that be amazing? 

But she _whined_ when he pulled out, gasping, “W-what’re you – Mikey?” 

She looked like she was on the verge of insanity, and _fuck_ that was an arousing thought. Until now he hadn’t known he could even get more aroused than he’d been, but damn if she didn’t prove that wrong with a single look. 

He was shaking from need and he could even hear it as he replied, “Just…need a moment…gonna cum if I don’t stop–”

She cut him off with a whimpered, “Put it back in!” 

_Fuck,_ that slayed him, wrecking his already tattered will. “Not yet,” he told her, “I don’t wanna cum yet…” 

“I don’t care!” she insisted. Reaffirming her grips on him, she started writhing her hips, seeking, as she demanded, “Cum, I don’t care – just put it back in!” 

Okay. Yeah. No way was he resisting _that_. 

Groaning from the pure audible sex he could hear in her voice, he set in again, finding that reentering her felt just as amazing as the first had been. Her body accepted him so easily, too, her slick, sopping wet walls making way for his thick cock like it was nothing. 

Yep – barely inside her and he could already feel the telltale throbs as his orgasm neared. This was _not_ going to take long. 

He’d just have to make it up to her after. 

Pinning her against the wall once more, he let the pleasure take him without resistance. His hips moved quick, sealing his cock inside her with every delve but actively trying to avoid pounding at her – at least until he knew she could take it. And she was so fucking _wet_ , it was like fucking straight liquid. 

He loved it. 

Holding her tight, drowning in her pleasured cries and hot pussy, he reached his climax in a mere handful of thrusts. He had to clench his jaw to keep from biting at her as he came, groaning harshly through his teeth through it all. He was barely able to keep his hips still as a whole new kind of euphoria raced through his veins, his cock pumping his due into her a sensation like none other. 

_Fuck,_ it was going to be hard to keep from doing this _all the time_. 

Worse, Lisa shivered and moaned as he filled her, dazedly murmuring, “Is that – a-are you…? Oh, wow…” Her hands caressed his sides and hips, seemingly fascinated. “So that’s what…wow,” she repeated. 

_God,_ even hearing her voice added to his orgasm, the absolute pleasure making him shudder and spasm against her. 

Mikey wasn’t so sure he could form coherent sentences yet, but he answered, “Yeah, that’s…” He ended his sentence with a groan, nuzzling into her neck and inhaling her seductive citrus scent. 

Yeah, he was never going to be able to live without that smell again. 

As he came back from his high, shaking off the lethargic sensation filling his limbs, he went right back to work. Before his dick could start to recede, he set in all over again, shuddering from the sensation on his over-sensitive flesh but determined to give his girlfriend her own ending before he let himself rest. 

She gasped, a shiver racing through her, and queried, “Mikey, h-how’re you–?” 

He kissed her, cutting off her words. He couldn’t think enough to answer that now, anyway. His focus was limited in the aftermath of his climax combined with the onslaught of sensation he was suffering, but he damn well picked up on her tells all the same, learning how she liked it best. 

Right now he was too lost to do much more than start to pound away at her, his hips barely able to test different angles as he went. He’d almost forgotten about the rest of her, she felt so damn good, but when he looked down between them his eyes snagged onto her large, quivering tits. 

_Challenge accepted._

Still sopping wet from the shower, her breasts were slick on top of hot and soft, and the feel of them under his fingers was incredible. She seemed to agree, too, if her fingers biting into his hips was any indication. It didn’t take much of this – thrusting away at her as he pet her gorgeous breasts – before he watched her peak, eating up the sight of her shuddering, convulsing form as she came for him. 

She cried out as she climaxed, over and over again, and he kept up his thrusts to prolong it. Not an easy task, that – her walls clenched and milked at him as he did so, and he had to fight to keep from losing it at the feeling. If his control slipped even the tiniest bit, he’d end up hammering away at her until he came again with no regard for her or his strength, he knew it. 

Which was why, as he saw her start to relax, he pulled out again. As he did so, he couldn’t help looking, watching as his extra-slick member was freed of her confines. Smears of white coated his cock and he could see more of it slipping from her along the dark tiles of the shower floor. 

It was so…fucking…sexy. 

Lisa was steadily going limp in the aftermath of her orgasm, so he secured his grip on her, snuggling her into him. And the corny part of him had him teasingly asking, “Was it good for you?” as his fingers lightly pet along her skin. 

She gave a weak laugh, then muttered, “Yeah, I’m…I regret not…doing this sooner…” Her voice was airy and tired but so satisfied he felt his pride swell to new size. 

He’d pleasured the _fuck_ out of her, and he immediately wanted to do it again. Then again and again and again, until she had to order him to stop, and even then he knew he’d beg to do it one more time. 

Oh, yeah – tonight was gonna be a long, long, long, _long_ night.


	32. Baby Boy

**Rating:** XXX (swearing/explicit sexual content)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Holy.

_Shit._

Lisa had learned a lot about herself tonight, and first on that list was that when Mikey got her riled enough, _anything_ would come out of her mouth. Just recalling some of the words embarrassed the hell out of her, making her wonder what the _hell_ had gotten into her (aside from the obvious). 

Another thing she’d learned? Sex felt _amazing_. She had no comparisons to draw from so she had no clue if her boyfriend being a turtle was a factor, but either way it’d been so great she couldn’t be sure she hadn’t been freaking hypnotized at some point.

Well, she reasoned, she _did_ feel dizzy…

She’d also learned that while being humped into oblivion felt great, having her breasts fondled at the same time was what _really_  slayed her. She’d been enjoying the feel of her boyfriend thrusting against her, the way his cock filled her, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that (to herself), but when he started petting her breasts, too? 

 _That_  was when she’d gone from “oh, wow, this feels super good!” to “skljdufghljsbfuuucking GOD!” 

Absolutely everything about what just happened left her shaken. Now that her mind was slowly coming back – and bringing with it a heavy shock – she suddenly realized that she’d just had sex _for the first time_  in a freaking _shower_. 

Was…that normal? 

She was infinitely glad to be held right then – it gave her a place to hide while she gathered her thoughts. Snuggled into Mikey, warm and tingly and secure, she had the time and space she needed to figure out what to do next. And as she did so, she realized she hadn’t told him something yet and winced, shame descending. 

 _D’oh._  How could she just…forget that? When this whole event got started, she’d firmly told herself to confess – he deserved to know everything, after all. But instead she’d just forgotten, her thoughts sidelined by the way he’d pleasured her. 

Yeah, she definitely had to get that out of the way next.

Summoning on her (strangely full) font of courage, she mustered up the will she needed and drew up, intent on telling him all–

The moment their eyes met, her boyfriend suddenly caught her cheek and dove in, his tongue filling her mouth and effectively cutting off her confession before a single word could form. And, weakling that she was, she couldn’t even fight him; his kiss felt too good for her to stop it.

She had to fight off a weird weakness in her limbs to participate, though, and her slowing heart kicked right back up again as well. The passionate way Mikey was devouring her mouth right then told her a lot, too: namely that he was riled as all hell. 

She’d bet money he wanted to do it again, at least three more times, and considering that money was akin to an object to be worshiped to her, that was saying something. 

With a moan, she made herself withdraw; he followed, his lips almost seeming magnetized to hers. She had to give him a little push to separate them, and the way he whined when she did so made regret take up root. 

Maybe she should just let him – but no, she had something to say. It was freaking important. 

“Mikey–” she started. 

She was cut off again, but this time it was due to the water suddenly going from pleasantly warm to _ice freaking cold._ She gave a yelp at the sensation, the chill making her jump. 

Normally she liked the cold. It seemed a bizarre thing to like, but she honestly preferred cold to hot. In this context, however, it was a jarring change and she recoiled from it – ironically – as if it burned. 

Mikey was quick, thankfully; as she threw herself against him, hiding from the cold as best she could, he got the knobs twisted off. 

He was chuckling, too, and she couldn’t help throwing a tired look his way. “Oh, come on,” he retorted, “it was kinda funny.” 

“I admit to _nothing,”_  she replied. 

Giggling, amused, he got to his feet, pulling her up as he went. And – _oof_  – straightening up again after all that sitting made a few aches suddenly spring to life. As they went about grabbing towels and drying off, Lisa made a quick mental note to make sure to change positions in the future, and, wait, had she seriously just thought that? Like she’d _just_ lost her virginity and she was already making plans on how to have better sex?

Growing nervous, her gaze skittered around, never landing anywhere for more than a second. It was a good thing she was already flushed or her boyfriend would probably have noticed her newest blush, she thought, her eyes eventually landing somewhere around his middle–

Oh.

_Oh._

Haha, right – she’d forgotten, what with her rampaging thoughts and then the cold water bit, but he was still hard. How he managed that, she had no idea, but he still had a full salute going on. And now she was having a hard time looking away from it, eyes drawn low repeatedly as they dried off. 

It was ridiculous, in a way. That’d just been inside her, and besides which she’d seen – and touched! – it quite a lot, but somehow knowing it was right there still had her giddy and nervous. And, of course, he noticed.

She even caught him subtly not-subtly showing off, giving her little poses as he rubbed the towel over him. His arms, his thighs, his freaking neck; he flaunted them all whenever she looked his way. Whether he was doing it just cause that’s who he was or he was aware of her rising nerves, she didn’t know, but it succeeded in making her laugh.

 _Such_ a ham, her Mikey.

He was _so cute,_ and damn it, she loved him _so much…!_

Suddenly he was right there, pulling her chin up to teasingly demand, “What’re you laughing at, huh? Me? Better not be me,” he warned, but his grin said that’s exactly what he’d wanted.

Unable to halt a smile, she confirmed, “It’s you.”

“Oho, now you’re in for it,” he told her, yet his punishment was anything but; cupping her face, he kissed her, hands and tongue working in tandem to seduce her all over again.

Not that it’d been hard the first time nor would it be any more difficult the second, really.

Their previous trysts had taught Lisa a lot about Mikey and the things he liked, and after their shower bout she’d learned even more. One thing she’d noticed: he _loved_ her skin, loved to touch and kiss and taste her. It was like he was magnetically attracted to her, incapable of keeping his hands and mouth off her body.

Granted, this had always been true – even in their earliest days, she’d noticed how he always had a hand on her somehow – but it’d never been so obvious as it was now, with his hands constantly petting her from shoulders to thighs.

And…if she could muster up the will to admit it…she loved it, too. And that thought led to another: she wanted to give him much the same affection as he’d been giving _her_ all this time. She’d never really had the courage necessary to do it before, but now she _wanted_ to.

She wanted to feel him, learn all his muscles and discover all his pleasure points; she wanted to indulge her lust, to lick and nip him everywhere she’d always found sexy but had never had enough self-confidence to explore; she fucking _wanted_.

And she’d bet he’d been dying for the same thing. Her poor, needy boyfriend was the type, after all – so many times she’d pet or massaged at him and he’d arched into her touch.

Oh, yeah. He _needed_ as much as she _wanted._

 _Well, then, today’s your luckiest day,_ she thought. Withdrawing from his kiss, she murmured, “I ever tell you you taste weirdly good?”

He grinned, saying, “Nah, but you didn’t have to – I know.” He winked; she laughed.

Then, without warning, he seized her by the thighs and yanked her up against him. Her knees automatically clamped down tight to his hips, having been trained to do so by how often he pulled this move. He absolutely loved holding her aloft like this, she’d found.

And she kinda liked it, too. It was weird to look _down_ on him, yeah, but there was something about this position that made her feel…powerful.

It was corny, but… _he_ made her powerful.

He gave her a cocky grin, then strode from the shower to the bedroom. Though this had been the next logical place to go, she found herself hesitating; that wasn’t _their_ bed, after all. It’d be bad manners to just…y’know…have sex there.

When she voiced her concerns, though, Mikey just chuckled. “The owner won’t know,” he told her. Ignoring her complaints, he tipped them over onto the bed and proceeded to devour her neck, sucking and kissing her soft skin.

It was _heavily_ seductive, to the point where she was cradling and petting his head even as she continued to worry over doing this – here.

“O-okay, yeah, but it’s still weird and whatever, right? I mean, this isn’t your bed or mine – is it seriously okay to just…uh…you know what I’m saying! And even if the guy doesn’t _know_ , I mean, won’t there be a mess and whatever–”

Laughing, he cut her off with a kiss, halting her rant mid-sentence. Then, giving her an amused look, he explained, “D’you really think I’d let there be a _mess_ after we leave? C’mon. I’m a ninja – one of the things we do is clean up after ourselves. Like, down to footprints and shit. We’ve scrubbed this place top-to-bottom, like, a dozen times, now, including washing the sheets.”

Well. That answered a lot of questions _and_ helped her relax, but it came with the trade-off of making her feel _really_ stupid.

With a wincing grin, she offered, “Uh, cool?”

His eyes brightened. “It is, right? Super cool – I love being a ninja!”

She chuckled, thinking – not for the first time – how happy she was that he was so laid-back. He’d never let her put herself down before, never let her bask in despondency or inadequacy, and certainly never let her feel stupid.

How he managed to always notice, she didn’t know, but she loved him all the more for it.

Lifting her head, she caught his mouth, missing his kiss though it’d only been a minute. He gave in easily, too; she heard a deep, steady churr as he thrilled her with lips and tongue.

Then, somewhere beyond this warm, erotic bed, she heard the music cut out. A second later it started up again and she very suddenly realized that they were on her _third_ mix.

Mikey-Lisa 1 and 2 had played through, and now 3 was kicking up. Beyonce’s _Baby Boy_ kicked it off, setting the tone for her sexy mix. And a part of her recognized that this was why the shower water had gotten so cold – over a whole freaking _hour_ had passed in there.

[ _Baby boy, you stay on my mind_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOwA6lEDH2M)   
[ _Fulfill my fantasies_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOwA6lEDH2M)   
[ _I think about you all the time_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOwA6lEDH2M)   
[ _I see you in my dreams_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOwA6lEDH2M)

Ugh, god, this was too freaking much. As if her body still humming from her _multiple_ orgasms and – dare she think it – the feel of her boyfriend’s hot cum _inside her_ wasn’t enough, now she was dealing with his talented tongue and her own arousing music. It made her want…

…more.

She didn’t say a single word, yet Mikey seemed to hear her unspoken desires all the same. With a groan, he ended the kiss with a loud _smack_ , then ducked his head down. She felt him shifting as he went, hooking her knee over his hip and petting at her skin, and promptly buried his face in her breasts.

Such hot, electric jolts hit her as he set in, first just kissing and licking her mounds before bringing his hands into the mix. God, she’d never get used to this; the sensations were too much, too intense, too damn _good_. Every touch was overwhelming, and every pass of his lips was even worse.

It was impossible to keep quiet as he explored (her default state during passionate stuff), let alone to keep focused on anything. The crisp, clean white sheets and comforter were cold, and somehow the sensation felt amazing on her heated skin. It was strangely different from the cold water spraying her from a minute ago, adding to the dizzying amount of pleasure she was feeling right then.

No – she had something to freaking say, damn it! She needed to do it already, before she lost her nerve – like she always freaking did – and that meant stopping him so she could _freaking say it!_

It was _really_ hard, though, and it only grew more difficult when his lips closed over one hard nipple, tugging and sucking on it in a way that sent thrilling, needy pulses right down to her clit. She yelped, shuddered, and seized him, hands holding him against her by the neck.

It was bizarre, but she was equally loving and hating this – it was great, yet at the same time, it was _too_ great. She couldn’t handle this much raw sensation…

So she said, but she’d survived it plenty of times already. Surely she could survive this time, too.

God, Mikey was a master at this, all but making love to her breast with his mouth. It was crazy; she could count on one hand how many times he’d slathered her like this and he’d already gotten her nailed down. He’d even figured out when she really was getting too much, swapping from one tit to the other on a dime.

The abandoned one tingled like crazy; the other was quickly treated to similar torture, getting her dripping wet in no time. Her cries filled the room as he worked her, drowning out the music in the background from the sheer volume he pulled out of her.

And the worst-best part was when he decided that his actions thus far weren’t enough: a hand slipped between her legs, stroking her in the most intimate way. Ironically, it felt so good she couldn’t even manage a scream; a shuddering whimper her only indicator that she’d felt him.

He churred so loud then that she heard it over the music _and_ her own noises – and felt it vibrating through her breast.

 _Shit,_ that was too freaking incredible… 

Lisa could feel the conflict in him then, torn between her two most sensitive parts. His fingers stroked and played with her wet folds as his tongue did the same to her hard nipple, successfully driving her crazy in the process. By the time he angled his fingers to delve inside her she’d been _seeking_ it, her hips shifting to try and catch them.

It was weird how sensitive she was right then, considering she’d already climaxed twice and was presently wetter than she’d ever been, yet she could still feel his strokes so _clearly_. A stray thought wondered if that was normal; the rest of her was too lost to concoct an answer.

Then, groaning, Mikey lifted his head, retrieving his fingers from her confines. She whined at the loss, absently trying to snag his hand and put it back where she wanted it.

This was derailed when she realized exactly how he was moving, coming to brace himself over her and align his hips with hers. A thrill went through her, suddenly so eager she almost missed him murmuring, “I gotta – sorry, I wanted to do more, but I gotta…”

To her surprise, she heard her own voice breathlessly answer, “Gimme it and I’ll forgive you.”

Haha, what? Who was speaking, here?!

Her boyfriend groaned, a shiver racing through him, and he snagged her chin. Bringing her face up, he kissed her, his tongue giving her a deep, thorough stroke – miming how started to breach her at the same time.

A heady moan escaped her, her body shuddering. He filled her slowly, carefully, his hips giving little, gentle thrusts; each one a test. She was thankful for that – she might’ve had him inside her just a few minutes ago but she could feel the strain all over again.

The boy was freaking _thick_ , and her walls so untested that even his fingers had been accompanied by a warning ache. But this was good – _he_ was good, the feel of him driving inside her almost straight pleasure. Her hands caught him by the hips, tugging, wanting more; he moaned, following her motions until he was seated fully sheathed.

It was _fucking_ amazing.

Despite this glorious moment, Mikey retained a cautious bone, she found. He kept his motions steady and careful, kept his speed slow. He kissed at her neck as he went, and she was all too happy with that – until she recalled that _thing she had to say!_

Again!

Freaking _hell,_ she couldn’t keep hold of a single thought with him pleasuring her like this. But now that it’d come to mind again she absolutely refused to let it flicker away for the umpteenth time.

Almost in a panic, she blurted, “Wait, wait!”

Mikey jolted, repeating, “Wait?!” with palpable shock. But he did as bade, his hips stilling at all once.

He looked so baffled, the poor guy. She instantly felt bad for stopping him, but comforted herself with the knowledge that he was about to be happier than he’d ever been.

Wincing, she started, “Sorry, it’s just – there’s something I haven’t told you…” And, hang on, why was she apologizing? _Just say it!_ she snapped at herself.

Taking a steadying breath, taking in his almost frenzied expression, she told him, “I love you.”

In a snap, she saw the change in him. From shock and passion and pain straight to disbelief, and then…adoration. She even caught his eyes filling before he dove in, mashing his mouth against hers in what was probably the most uncoordinated, needy kiss he’d given since their very first.

Feeling emotional as hell, herself, Lisa gave a strangled laugh as she met him. She cupped his cute face, trying to match his clumsy kisses as best she could; several went wide, leading to them accidentally-on purpose going from cheek to cheek in the midst of the loving make-out session.

And in between every few pecks, she heard him murmur _I love you_ – over and over, until she couldn’t stand it anymore and thrust her tongue down his throat. He deserved it for making her feel so damn giddy all the time, smothering her in his love while she lacked the courage to return the sweet torture.

It was _her_ turn to smother _him_ , now.

At least, it was – until he put that idea on hold, his hips starting to pump again and successfully derailing all of her plans in the process. That first sweet withdraw and delve halted her kiss; the second had her lost.

It didn’t take but a few thrusts before Mikey started to lose it – or he’d caught on to what she wanted that quick. Either way his motions quickened, rapidly going from “slow and testing” to “mind-scrambling, deep, and fast”.

And by all that’s unholy, the freaking _pleasure_ that surged through her! It was like nothing else, better than the way he’d given it to her in the shower. Who would’ve guessed that the insanity he’d wrought in her before had just been an appetizer?

Lisa was soon reduced to just hanging onto him, feet hooking around his thighs and hands clinging to his shoulders. His pumping had her crying out constantly – in between the moments when the pleasure was too great and sealed her throat closed, that is. And yet, despite how amazing it felt (and sounded; their mixed yells and little _slap, slaps_ as his skin met hers was a pleasure in and of itself), she wanted more.

Always _more_.

“Mikey!” she gasped between his rapid strokes.

He shuddered, biting out, “F-fuck, I’m – you’re gonna – fuck!”

All at once, he stopped – but he didn’t pull out. Oh, no, he pushed in as far as he could go. As he moaned against her neck she could feel his cock pulsing, a foreign heat taking up root inside her.

Coming – again. Jesus, that felt incredible, making her groan and shiver instead of getting cross with him for finishing so quick – she hadn’t been done yet, after all. But then, to her surprise, he picked up right where he’d left off, albeit with constant shudders on his part.

What the hell was he, to be able to just stop, fill her up, then get right back to it without even taking a breather? Ah, who cared; she was happy to leave those questions unanswered, so long as he didn’t stop.

And, _fuck_ , but he _didn’t stop_.

That climax seemed to have cleared his mind somewhat, because he drew a hand up to her breasts to stroke and massage her as he started up his thrusts. In no time the mixed sensations had her coming, yelling her pleasure to the rafters and bucking against him as the waves took her under.

His hips never ceased their pumping, making her climax linger on and on and on, until she could barely breathe. Only then did he slow, giving her time to weather the insane stress her body was feeling.

Between her heart’s attempt to kill her and her lungs’ inability to take a full inhale, she felt millimeters from expiring. Yet her boyfriend seemed either oblivious to her trials or proud of it, because he just nuzzled her, churred, and kept up some slow, deep thrusts inside her.

She was so sensitive right then that even that much bordered on “too much”, making her whimper and shudder. But…honestly…she didn’t want him to stop. Somehow she still wanted more, like she was addicted to him and just couldn’t go on without another dose.

A constant quiver had taken up residence in her bones, making her voice shake as she murmured a single word:

“More.”

God, she _felt_ him grin against her shoulder, delighted with her request.

* * *

 _Fuck, would you just_ look _at her?_

Mikey was in awe. His girlfriend was the best ever, no question – the best girlfriend, best woman, best lover, best _everything!_

He’d tried being slow and sweet for her and she’d demanded more. He’d made her come – twice more! – and still she wanted him. He’d filled her up three freaking times, now, and still she wasn’t done yet.

That first “more” had set him loose. He’d lost control of his hips for a while, pounding away at her with barely enough consciousness to keep from using his full strength on her, his motions lightning-fast but not harsh, and it’d felt so good to just let go like that, he’d felt almost faint.

A part of him had remained concerned that he was doing too much and going too fast, especially considering she kept shuddering under him, but every time he’d bit out the question, “How do you feel?” she’d returned it with a gasped, “Good – more!”

Yep, she was going to kill him – and what a way to go! He was _way_ too happy to oblige, making her come over and over until he expired from sheer exhaustion. It was a worthy death, he figured.

He was definitely getting there, too, his heart constantly pounding so hard it was rivaling how he was plowing his girlfriend’s body right then. He’d made her come twice since she set him loose on her, swapping their positions every so often when a new one came to mind and testing which ones were the most effective.

That second climax of hers – technically her fifth of the night; _damn_ but she was lucky to have him, huh? – her been so intense it’d sucked his cum right out of his balls. He’d had her on top of him, braced on her knees so he could hammer away at her, his eyes and hands swapping between her gorgeous, quivering tits and soaking wet pussy.

Then she’d screamed and shuddered and her eyes had rolled back. The way her walls had seized him, then, clenching and milking at him, had ruined the mantra he’d been chanting to himself.

No amount of repeating “Raph’s smelly shorts” and “Donnie’s weird sneezes” could’ve stopped him from joining her then, so he’d just let it take him. 

He’d pulled her down to him, unable to stop himself from giving her neck a firm bite, and held her tight to his chest; they’d both started quivering and gasping for air as their climaxes hit. Bodies spasming in unison, hers demanding his due and his all too willing to give it, he’d let his cum fill her up for the third time tonight.

 _Fuck,_ that’d been so good, pleasure and relaxation surging through his veins. From the sound of Lisa’s trembling gasps and sighs, she’d been in the same place as him. And this close he could smell her sweat, and it drew a smile out of him.

She was gonna need another shower…

He’d expected that would be it – she was exhausted, he was…nearly exhausted (he could go again and he knew it, but he wasn’t willing to risk his girlfriend’s health for that) – but after spending a minute to catch her breath, she’d asked for _more_.

_**Fuck** me._

By the end of all this Mikey honestly expected his cock would be out of commission for a while; he’d never been this rough with himself before, after all, and he didn’t know what his own limit was. It was kind of funny, in a way: he’d always wanted a girlfriend as lusty as he was, and now that he had one, he wasn’t sure _he_ could handle _her_.

But he’d damn well enjoy trying.

And the sex wasn’t even the best part! Well, yeah, it was fantastic and he’d kill for more, but the best part had been when she’d said those freaking words: _I love you._

God, it was pathetic how much that’d riled him. Hearing her _say_ that had put him on the edge in a snap; he’d had to fight to regain control of his dick, a process that’d taken a few minutes. Then…oh, man, _then_ he’d gone to town on her.

She’d freaking _welcomed_ him, consciously and unconsciously, with her body and her eyes.

Was it any wonder he was in love with her?

Now he had her on her back again, him on his knees with her hips held up off the bed so he could rail her. It had the added effect of making her breasts look _amazing,_ too, leaving her an absolute feast for the eyes. At some point she’d lifted her arms up over her head, then settled a forearm over her face.

Even in the midst of all this incredible sex, she was still finding ways to be cute.

God damn _swoon!_

Her voice betrayed her exhaustion more than anything else, her cries having turned breathy and wispy, and it kind of made him want to just stop – but she’d asked for more. He was damn well going to deliver.

She was so wet, so full of his cum, that the sounds their bodies were making was easily the lewdest thing he’d ever heard. Even better, it’d gotten _everywhere_ ; he could feel her juices on his thighs, could see his own cum mixed in with it, coating his cock and all but dripping from her.

Sex was even better than he’d imagined, and he’d freaking imagined it being mind-blowing.

But this had gone on long enough, he thought. He didn’t want Lisa passing out – well, he kinda did, but not really – so he buckled down and made to finish them off. He aimed his hips to hit a little higher and then rapidly doubled his speed, letting him pumps _pound_ at her.

She cried out, arching, and her hands flew down to seize his. He felt and saw a shudder tear through her, and then her gaze was riveted to his hips.

At once, Mikey made sure to put on a show for her, giving her the deepest thrusts he could manage so she could _see_ each full stroke. The way she bit her lip on a moan told him she liked it. He did, too; when he looked down, watching his dark cock vanish past her brunette curls into her body, it almost threw him over the edge.

He fought to hold out, though, focusing on making her come. It took a shockingly short amount of time, too; she must’ve been hovering there for a while and he just hadn’t noticed.

He watched her as she climaxed, eating up the way her eyes fluttered closed and her body rhythmically writhed to meet his. Her hands slipped from his wrists to his hips, weakly grasping; giving in, he let her hold him deep, let his rapture take him. With her tired moans egging him on and her walls tugging at his cock, he came for her.

His ears were ringing by the time he started to come back down, shivers racing through him. Moving slowly now – both because he was sensitive as _fuck_ after all that and because he just really wanted to linger – he lowered them to the bed, opting to stay nestled inside her as long as his softening cock would allow.

He was churring again, though he wasn’t sure when it’d started this time. Nuzzling into her, taking in her sweat-heavy, seductive citrus scent, he stayed right where he was and just basked.

His darling Lisa was obviously beyond exhausted, but she had enough strength left for some affection, he found. Her hands trailed lightly over his skin as she brought them up to his neck, caressing. It felt amazing – on top of being _seriously_ heartening.

A part of him almost expected to hear her ask for more again, but she didn’t. She gave a weak whimper, shifting her hips under him. It pulled a shudder out of him, his dick receding slower than normal and almost in pain from what he’d put it through, still partway inside her then.

But it felt good, too.

He was heaving for air against her skin, and after a few moments of this she started to squirm and giggle, tickled. It brought a weak chuckle out of him, lifting his head to regard her.

Her eyes were closed and remained so even when he angled her chin towards him so he could kiss her. Too tired to open her eyes?

Oh, that hit him right in the pride.

“You should go to sleep,” he told her between deep breaths.

“Nn-nn,” she denied on a weak exhale.

Chuckling, he gave her another nuzzle, rubbing his nose against hers; she giggled, forcing her eyes open with difficulty.

Oh, yeah, she was freaking exhausted. He said more firmly, “Go to sleep.”

She retorted, “Make me.”

Man, if she didn’t sound so breathless and lethargic right then he would’ve started a tickle fight just to make a point. 

Instead, Mikey gave her neck a little nip; she yelped, squirming (he loved the feel of her wriggling under him, holy shit). Then, withdrawing from her embrace – a shame, truly – he told her, “Stay put.”

Her eyes were already closed again, telling him in no small measure just how much he’d exhausted her. Beyond happy, he ignored her noise of protest and got out of the bed. Showering was probably out of the question, but he should still clean her up–

With a yelp, he went straight from the bed to the floor, his legs refusing to support him. Hah, okay, lesson learned: lots of fucking meant weakened legs. Now that he was focusing he could even feel it, a tiny, constant quiver in his muscles.

And, damn, if _he_ felt like this, how did Lisa feel? The thought made him grin; no wonder she could only wriggle and squirm, now. Her entire body probably felt like jelly.

 _He’d_ done that.

It was a damn good thing he had such rigid training or there would be no way he’d be getting his body to work right – not in under an hour, anyway. As it was, he just shook it off and went for the bathroom, retrieving towels and wetting a couple.

He wiped off his slick thighs first, then rinsed off the towels again and went back to Lisa. She was _out_ by then, no surprise, so he was careful not to rouse her as he made to clean her up. Other than a few vague hums, she made no indication she was even aware of him and his actions.

It was weirdly cute. And he couldn’t resist taking advantage of her exhaustion a little, leaving little pecking kisses all over her. He even got each of her fingers and toes individually, and she wriggled a little when he got to her toes.

 _So_ cute.

He was so super duper in love, man.

By the time he finished with his task – even going so far as to rub the sweat out of her hair – he was _really_ feeling his own lethargy. He sent Donnie a text saying he was staying out with Lisa then climbed into bed with her, maneuvering them under the covers.

Then, finally, he cuddled up with her and relaxed, letting everything else fall away. At once he could feel a series of protesting aches in his body, practically in every inch of him, and it just made him smile.

He was _so_ having sex with her again – anywhere, anytime – whenever she was comfortable with it. Hell, he hoped he’d have another bout in the morning, but that was probably asking for too much.

Still, he planned on giving it a try. Worst case scenario, she said “no” and they packed up and left.

Best case scenario, he had the best morning of his life.


	33. Chapter 33

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Straight from a fantastic night to a fantastic morning, Lisa thought.

She roused from what had to be the best sleep of her life to the sensation of a tickle at her neck. Mikey was kissing her, from shoulder to jaw and back, in between little nuzzles. To be fair, he hadn’t intended to wake her up; it just so happened that she stirred awake easily when touch was involved.

She could sleep through almost any sound, but as soon as a hand was on her, she was up -- unless she’d had hands on her all night, as it turned out. It was amazing what one could learn about oneself over the course of one night.

She shivered, goosebumps racing down one side of her body and making her squirm. Giggling, she absently reached for his hand, saying, “Good morning to you, too, boo.”

She heard and felt his churrs as he replied, “The best, bae.”

Grinning, she wriggled around to see him...and immediately got caught up in his bright baby blues.

Mikey could be described easily with a few choice words. Her favorites among them: cool, sweet, innocent, affectionate, and energetic. Right now she found herself adding one more.

“Mesmerizing.”

He tilted his head, humor and pride taking up root in his gaze, and she realized -- to her utter mortification -- that she’d spoken aloud. With a squeak of horror she turned over again, hiding her face behind both hands; her boyfriend giggled, pulling her into a tighter hug and nuzzling her neck more insistently. The act made her break into squealing laughs, tickled in the worst way.

It didn’t last long, thankfully. Mere moments of this torture later and Mikey halted, catching her jaw in his hand to give her a quick, sharp kind of kiss.

Ever the bubbly one -- now worse than ever -- he said, “Alright, c’mon! You can help me with breakfast.” He was on his feet a second later, all but bouncing in place as he tugged on her hands to get her up.

And Lisa couldn’t help but grin at him, hopelessly charmed. But while it was on the tip of her tongue to say something affecting to _you’re even more incorrigible than usual today_ to him, those words were prevented when she got to her feet.

A sudden, wholly unexpected sensation hit her right in the gut, making her cringe and double over. Mikey caught her, horrified, and was immediately blurting a dozen rapid-fire questions about her health. Lisa, meanwhile, was trying to figure out what she was feeling.

There was pain, yeah, but it wasn’t very intense and it wasn’t like an, _Oh, that’s a wound,_ kind of thing. It was more... _Wow, that’s a really, really sore muscle._ And as the dots connected for her, making her realize why, exactly, she felt this particular ache, a whole new kind of embarrassment rose to the fore.

_Oh. Duh._

Feeling herself blushing, she straightened up -- wincing as the aches flared in reaction -- she hedged, “I’m okay, I’m okay. I was just...surprised, y’know? Don’t worry,” she told her boyfriend.

Mikey looked like he couldn’t _not_ worry. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look more horrified before.

“It’s my fault, huh?” he said, a grim veil descending over his features. “I shoulda been easier on you.”

“I didn’t want you to,” she replied before she could stop herself. Wincing again -- this time from embarrassment over her words -- she went on, “Look, it’s fine. We learned, right? And...I mean, admit it: it was great. Say it,” she prompted when he didn’t look any less dispirited (even as she felt herself wriggling and blushing from her own words).

He gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, it was -- but it shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t have been -- whatever,” he blurted, shaking his head as he cut off his own correction. “You’re more important, and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” she assured him. “At least, at the time, nothing hurt. I swear. So don’t worry, baby boy. Just...from now on, we know better and whatever. Get it?”

She could still see the debate in him, last night’s good feelings battling against this morning’s regret. So she tried to distract him, standing on her toes and looping her arms around his neck to bring him down for a kiss. He relented easily enough, thankfully; whatever was going on in his head, his affection for her remained the more powerful impulse. Good.

Withdrawing, she commented, “I believe I was promised breakfast.”

He gave a soft laugh. “I didn’t hear that,” he shot back. “What I heard was you were gonna help me with breakfast.”

“Same diff. Let’s go,” she prompted.

* * *

 

_“You trust me?”_

The way Lisa saw it, Mikey never even had to ask her that. Yes, she trusted him -- always had, and since last night, well...

She’d never trusted him _more_.

Rather than answer right away, instead she stepped up onto the ledge with him and linked her hands behind his neck, not even giving the plummet below a glance. They were ready to get going -- had already cleaned up, packed up and indulged in a little teasing affection -- and now they were outside, standing on the edge of a 30-story patio after the sun had vanished.

Giving him a smile, she cheerfully answered, “Yep,” popping the ‘p’ in the way that always amused him.

Grinning, he chucked her chin, stole a kiss, then twisted around and tipped backwards. He tugged her after him by the hand as his descent began, and as the cool, damp air washed over her, Lisa began laughing. Already she could feel the rush of the fall, the first threads of fear combating with excitement inside her; in moments she was shrieking with laughter, thinking that this must be what it felt like to fly with Superman.

She’d never get tired of it.

It was night again, just after seven. The sun had set a little while ago and Mikey’s brothers showed up almost the _instant_ the building was wreathed in shadows to commence wiping the place down. Though Lisa had offered to stay and help, they’d pushed her (and Mikey) right out of the room, citing that she’d only end up making everything take longer. She had no experience with removing evidence of her existence, after all; it was best to leave that to the masters.

Besides, Mikey had said, the turtles didn’t have fingerprints. They couldn’t accidentally leave prints behind. _She_ could.

Having no argument left (just a hefty amount of embarrassment as she realized what kinds of messes the guys would be cleaning up), she’d allowed Mikey to lead her out.

“Don’t you need to help?” she’d asked.

“I’ll be back after taking you home,” he’d assured her.

Then he’d stepped up onto the ledge and gave her that _I know the answer but I wanna hear it anyway_ smile. Ugh, that look got her square in the chest every damn time she saw it. And, finally, he extended a hand and said those touching, tempting words:

_You trust me?_

The fall was the best part of traveling with him, she’d found. It was better than walking hand-in-hand, better than sharing his skateboard, better than playfully competing as they used the tunnels as makeshift half-pipes. This was the longest plummet they’d ever shared, too, giving them plenty of time to twirl and play around mid-air.

Her favorite part of this particular descent was when she kicked off of him into a slow, drifting backflip, laughing all the while, only to have him pivot around to her and pull her against him. It was a little difficult to maintain balance and speed but she loved it anyway, learning what she could now that she had such an incredible fall to use for experimenting. Besides, any time she started losing it, tossed by the winds rather than riding them, her boyfriend was right there to catch her.

Despite the freefall, she’d never felt safer.

Unfortunately, though, it just had to end. Soon enough he called it, retrieving his skateboard and having her join him on it. With a single hit of his jet their descent became an arc, as if they were traveling down a really steep ramp, and between the board and his nunchucks (used as hooks to change their direction as needed) he had them aimed at a rooftop in mere moments.

The landing was a little hard, though by now she was used to it; even though they’d both been braced and their speed broken, they still ended up tripping and tumbling over each other.

It was freaking _hilarious_. She was pretty sure she’d received at least a few bruises, yeah, but that was hardly a deterrent.

Between the cold air and the incredible fall Lisa was downright vibrating from her harsh shivers, but she was laughing all the same. Mikey checked her over for any injuries as she commented between shudders, “S-so, same time tomorrow?”

He giggled, then snagged her by the chin. “You’re perfect, you know that?” he said, kissing her before she could answer.

He’d been saying that a lot -- the “perfect” thing. If he kept it up, she might just believe him some day.

The rest of the trip home was uneventful (compared to the last twenty-four hours, anyway), and honestly the worst part was knowing she couldn’t just stay in that penthouse with him for the rest of forever. Maybe it was all the freaking sex they’d had, but she didn’t want even a second apart from him -- not ever.

When she told him as much, he gave her a look unlike any she’d ever seen on him. If she didn’t know any better she’d swear he’d just started glowing, especially in his eyes; those gorgeous blues had never been clearer or brighter, and they were in the almost total darkness of the freaking sewer.

It wasn’t very often that Lisa _saw_ the humor drain from him, but this was one such moment. She’d barely started to grasp the magnitude of how strongly her words had hit him when he tugged her against him and began sucking the soul out of her via her mouth.

As she responded, matching his moves as they communicated without words, a funny little memory flitted by: lounging on a couch with her sweetie, watching the first romantic comedy of her life. One line in particular came to the fore, this moment all but making a mockery of it.

_Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses rated the most passionate, the most pure..._

_...this one left them all behind._

_Damn right,_ she thought now.

Though the kiss dragged on for moments beyond her ability or care to count, it did, eventually, end. But as neither of them really wanted to stop things here and now, they didn’t move even a fraction apart.

Hell, her mouth was still watering from that kiss. There was no way she was backing off now.

After a moment, Mikey ventured, “Hey...why’d the rooster cross the road?”

Oh god, jokes? Already grinning, she checked, “Why?”

To her surprise, he actually hesitated a second before answering, “He was following the chick of his dreams.”

..... _Awww._

“That was so corny,” she chided with a chuckle.

“You loved it,” he replied, not a single shred of doubt in him.

She tisked. “Know me so well, eh, boo?”

“Damn right I do, bae.”

“Yeah?” she challenged. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know about myself.”

He paused, thinking, before giving her a warm smile. Then, voice low and confident, he declared, “You never really thought boys were attractive...till me.”

That had her tilting her head, pondering whether or not he was right. He might just be onto something there....

Another series of moments passed as they held gazes, neither willing to move. It was time to part, they both knew it, yet it was becoming increasingly obvious that they didn’t want to. And as if reading her mind, Mikey gave her a very... _very_ tempting offer:

“...We can always go back to the Lair. Either one. Y’know...have another sleepover...”

Oh, man, did she want to. And at that moment, Lisa considered something she never had before: moving in. She totally could, she knew; Jocelyn had, after all, and everyone had simply shifted a little to make room. It would be nothing to have Lisa join the ranks.

The thing was, though....she didn’t _want_ to. Not that she didn’t want to live with Mikey or couldn’t handle being a part of that growing family, but rather that she really, really didn’t want to live underground. And now that the thought had crossed her mind -- immediately following her first intimate night with a boy, no less -- she found herself needing both time and space to think things over.

No, she didn’t want to separate herself from Mikey, but she _did_ need to get her thoughts put in order again. Last night had shuffled the hell out of her needs and priorities, and she wasn’t nearly experienced enough to know what she ought to do next.

_Time._ _Space._

She could do that.

It’d taken her several moments to come to this conclusion, she found, and in that time Mikey had seemed to hold his breath. A thread of panic hit her; had she seriously left him hanging for so long?!

“Ah -- sorry! I zoned out,” she apologized quickly. Shaking her head as if the motion could kick her brain back into gear, she started, “Uh, well, I’d love to, but....like, it just hit me that my head’s all scrambled and whatever, so....”

Disappointment had her boyfriend’s face falling, but he shook it off quickly, almost immediately snapping right back to his usual chipper self. “That’s cool, I won’t push you, bae. Just, uh...lemme know when you got it unscrambled, okay?”

She had precisely zero problems with that. Nodding, she agreed, “Oh, definitely. Bet you could even hold your breath on that,” she told him. “It’s...I mean, you...this is really hard to put into words,” she admitted with a nervous laugh.

Shrugging, he offered, “Then don’t say it. Show me what you wanna say,” he said, giving her a sly, sexy kind of look.

He was shockingly seductive when he wanted to be, she was learning.

Unable to find fault with his logic -- and, if she was honest with herself, _really_ wanting more of him anyway -- she stood up on her toes to share another kiss, and this one she filled with thought and emotion. What she couldn’t find the words to say she let her lips convey.

_I want you. I love you. I want that elusive ‘forever’ that everyone wants but never actually happens. I want every second I can possibly steal with you. But I also need time to figure out what comes next._

He groaned and churred as she spoke with swipes of her tongue and nips to his lips, growing drunk on his flavor filling her mouth all the while. By the time she withdrew at last she could feel a needy stirring in her belly; from the dark, inviting look in his eye, he felt the same.

Right then she’d have been happy to have another round with him, right here and now, but she feared that it wouldn’t end there if she let it happen.

So, instead, she did one of the hardest things she’d ever done to date: she stepped back, out of his embrace. Pointing upwards and hanging off the ladder, she asked, “Get the door for me?”

He grinned at the joke, nodding. “On it,” he said, quickly clambering up the tunnel to shove the manhole cover out of the way.

Lisa was halfway up the ladder, almost a head out of the sewers, when she glanced back down and said, “Miss me.”

Mikey didn’t answer, but then, he didn’t have to -- she could see how much he’d miss her on his face. His lingering smile said it wouldn’t be all bad, though; he probably had a ton of pleasant memories to sift through in the meantime.

She knew she sure did.

* * *

 

It was a miracle, Mikey decided. After years of so badly craving affection and touching and sex and _love_ , he finally had it, and it felt like a real, true miracle.

Raph had been so _right_ about all this, which ultimately made Mikey feel dumb for not believing his brother. Find someone he liked more than he’d liked April, then Jo, then Cassie? _Hah!_

But it’d happened, and it was so, so much more than just “someone he liked more” than those who’d come before. Oh, no; this was no playground crush. This was soul-deep love, so powerful and encompassing that it matched -- by itself! -- the love he felt for everyone else in his family _combined_.

How crazy was that?! In a single night he’d finally discovered the true depth of his feelings for Lisa, and it was so powerful it left him feeling shaken and giddy and _happy_ \-- to an extent he’d never known.

And the most incredible part of this? It hadn’t been the sex that did it -- it was when she’d said those three amazing words...and the _way_ she’d said them.

_Heart...overflowing...warning: death imminent..._

Pleasuring her -- discovering _that_ pleasure with her, inside her, wrapped around her and wrapped up in her -- had been the single most intense, mind-numbing, body-shaking event of his life, and it still paled in comparison to getting that verbal confirmation from her.

If Raphael got even _half_ this level of absolute euphoria with Jo, then it was no wonder the hard-headed buffoon was so besotted with her. Mikey often felt like he’d do absolutely anything to make Lisa smile and keep her nearby; now that he had that perspective he couldn’t blame his brother for following Jocelyn everywhere she went.

Having her in sight -- hell, having her in range of his sense of smell -- probably soothed Raph as much as seeing and smelling Lisa excited _Mikey_.

The downside to this perspective was that now Mikey couldn’t justify poking fun at Raph for ending up in love with a ballerina, of all things. It wasn’t a reflection of him and they all knew it, it’d just been fun to tease him about it. And now Mikey couldn’t even do that anymore -- not without feeling guilty, anyway.

Which was why, when he reached the penthouse again, he didn’t throw jabs back at Raph, in particular. To be fair, he was too pleased to throw jabs back in general, but the point remained.

As soon as he showed up, though, striding through the patio doors, Raph led the charge with a smarmy, “Hey, lil bro -- have fun last night?”

Donnie and Leo were quick to join in, but Mikey’s expression must’ve tipped them off because they soon quit with the teases. He hadn’t even bothered replying, just giving each of them a steady smile.

All three of his brothers were looking positively creeped out.

That was a win in his book.

The cleanup part of the day was about halfway done by the time Mikey had arrived, and with his help it didn’t take much longer. Soon they were back in the sewers, heading home as they chatted and teased one another. The subject of the day was, very pointedly, Jo and Raph’s trip down to Hawaii -- or, more specifically, how Raph had been a stowaway.

To be fair, Jocelyn was the only one who hadn’t known Raphael was going to be coming along, as he’d discussed the matter with his family while she was dead asleep one night. But -- and this was equally a surprise and not -- she’d caught him, leading to a rather awkward “meeting the girlfriend’s grandparents and extended family” situation.

Which led to an even _more_ awkward “they think I’m a demigod” situation that Raph had enjoyed way too much to correct. Worse, according to him, Jocelyn had encouraged this belief amongst her relatives. It was something they’d all figured would happen sooner or later with one culture or another; Splinter had mentioned the _kappa_ of Japanese legend to them on more than one occasion, so they knew the possibility existed.

Actually encountering it, though? _That_ was a surprise.

“So if we all showed up one day,” Mikey checked, “they’d think we’re all a _kupua?”_

“Probably,” was Raph’s gruff response, punctuated with a shrug. Then, with a teasing look, he added, “Dare ya to try.”

Mikey sent him a smirk. It was on the tip of his tongue to agree -- _never met a dare I was scared of,_ he’d told Lisa once, and he meant it -- but knowing he’d have to leave the city (and Lisa) behind stopped him.

Hell, no. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Suck an egg,” was Mikey’s response. “Nothing short of world-ending b-s is getting me out of New York ever again.”

Donnie almost tripped, hearing that, and Leo did a double-take. Raph, meanwhile, just chortled, understanding completely. They had identical mindsets now, after all: _I’m staying here, with_ her _. Period._

The two taken brothers shared a quick fist-bump, solidarity passing between them. So what if Mikey had once wanted nothing more than to travel and see the world and stand in every spotlight from here to Ecuador, India, Russia, China, and back? Lisa was more important than his travel wishes.

Besides, there was nothing saying he couldn’t travel _with_ her at some point. Hell, he was pretty sure she’d go with him anytime he asked; they were both impulsive like that. A subject for another day, he thought.

For now he was still humming with energy, his mind full of sights and sounds and scents, his skin still feeling extra warm from Lisa’s own heat against him. It was going to take _months_ to sort through everything that’d happened last night -- months to get his thoughts organized, to settle the constant tickle in his chest...months just to get the grin off his face.

_Hah._ No wonder Lisa had asked for time, he realized now. If he was having this much trouble with his memories as a trained freaking ninja, it was going to take _her_ twice as long.

...Was it wrong of him to feel proud of that?

“Okay, seriously,” Leo’s voice cut into his thoughts, “that smile is getting creepy, lil bro.”

Just for that, Mikey grinned wider, showing all his teeth in what was _almost_ a grimace.

Leo rolled his eyes; Donnie and Raph laughed.

“Saw that coming,” Donnie said.

Then, more somber, Leo ventured, “That good, huh?”

Mikey had been so caught up with Lisa that he hadn’t really been paying attention to Leo lately -- and, specifically, Leo’s relationship with Cassie -- and his brother’s mood shift was concerning.

All gazes shifted to the eldest; Raph began, “Hey, Leo? ...Somethin’ wrong?”

Leo shrugged. “Not sure,” he hedged, and that uncertainty worried Mikey.

So much for having trouble wiping the smile off his face, he thought. Aloud, he asked, “Things with Cassie not going so well?”

To everyone’s surprise, Leo stopped. Just stopped, looking down at the ground with a pinched expression. He didn’t answer right away, and this got all the brothers sharing concerned glances. And Mikey -- nicknamed The Heart for damn good reason -- came up to the eldest, a hand clasping his brother’s shoulder.

“Bro?” he ventured, tentative.

Leo’s gaze shifted to Mikey then, and he finally confessed, “The way you and Raph are...the way you talk about Lisa and Jo, the way you act...I don’t get that with Cassie.”

_Oh._

Mikey’s first thought? _Then she’s not for you._ But he didn’t want to just _say_ that, especially considering how conflicted Leo’s expression was. This was obviously tearing him up, and the last thing Mikey wanted was to make it worse with a blunt declaration like that.

“Then...maybe yer not right for each other,” Raph said.

...Then again, Mikey thought, one could always count on Raph to break the ice.

Leo sent Raph a strained glare. “Great, thanks,” he replied, sarcastic. “Never thought of that.”

Arms wide, Raph shot back, “Then why ya bein’ all hesitant about it? Just tell her. Cassie’ll get it.”

“Raph,” Mikey hissed, knowing at once that Raph was only making things worse.

Leo bit his lip on a reply, then exhaled hard. “Cause, Raph -- think about it. You and Mikey? You got _lucky._ Really lucky. What’re the chances Donnie and I will ever get the same?” he added with a gesture at the still-single Donnie. “If I break up with her...who says I’ll get another chance?”

“So you’re gonna settle for ‘kinda okay’?” Raph challenged.

“You’re not helping!” Mikey snapped, unable to just stay quiet at that. “Leo’s got a point -- most _humans_ don’t even get what we got, bro. We’re crazy lucky. So how ‘bout you just be supportive, Raph?”

Raph chuffed, annoyed. “Like you’re some kinda expert?”

“Not any more than you are,” Mikey shot back.

“How about,” Donnie interjected, physically stepping between them, “none of us try telling Leo what to do? Just...listen. Let him talk,” he told Mikey and Raph with glances between them.

Their gazes moved to Leonardo again then, finding him studying the ground, still conflicted. At first Mikey didn’t think he’d heard Donnie at all, but then he commented quietly, “I don’t want to let go, in case I never get another chance like this...but I also don’t want to waste her life. Just because I have no options doesn’t mean I have to take all of hers away, right?”

Mikey ventured, “Sounds like you really love her, bro. Just...not really the way you want to.”

Leo glanced up then, catching Mikey’s gaze for a lingering moment. Then, nodding, he replied, “I want...what you guys have.” Rubbing at his neck awkwardly, he admitted with difficulty, “Got seriously jealous, watching you two fawning over your girls. I think I kind of...forced this thing with Cassie. And that’s...not...fair to her,” he finished weakly.

Leo seemed to deflate then, and it sent Mikey’s mind reeling. Who the hell was _this?_ Not their stoic, stand-tall, all-for-one leader in blue, that’s for sure. Which is exactly why Mikey knew just how much this whole thing was tearing up Leo inside.

Giving an absent shoulder-rub, Mikey offered, “Then...you gotta tell her, bro. But, hey, it’s not over till it’s over, right? You still have that chance. Don’t give up right away. And,” he added more quietly, “if it does go south...we’ll be right here.”

Leo nodded, but aside from a tiny smile that faded almost immediately after appearing, he didn’t look any better. Drawn in, Raph and Donnie approached too, offering comforting shell-pats and nudges to their eldest brother.

“You know what Dad says,” Raph suggested. “Take some time, gather yer thoughts. Then you can decide what to do.”

_Good advice for once,_ Mikey thought with a fake look of shock. Raph punched his arm.

That tiny playful moment seemed to have helped a fraction, Leo giving a dry laugh. “Never change,” he told the two of them, then kicked back into motion, once more leading the group through the tunnels.

But even as they traveled, as they made it back home and separated, as Mikey watched Leo head to the dojo and disappear behind its doors, the youngest had a lingering, unsettled feeling. It was terrible timing, this drama happening just after the best night of his life -- but, he thought, maybe that was a good thing.

Maybe being so high up was a gift right now. Maybe he’d be able to help pull Leo out of his inner darkness as a result. Maybe...just maybe...this was perfect timing, instead.

He would just have to pay attention, offer support where he could, and hope.

* * *

 

Lisa was on cloud nine as she got home. Sure, her midsection was still sore and she couldn’t decide if she wanted it to fade already or stick around as a kind of physical memory, but overall she couldn’t have been happier.

She could swear she could still feel Mikey’s warmth cocooning her, could still taste his kisses and hear his repeated _I love yous_ punctuated with his unique churrs.

Hell, she could still feel his hands on her, a ghostly apparition at her hips and back and...more intimate places.

Sam was home when she got there, in the process of stirring the contents of a TV dinner. He glanced up when she came through the door, his expression pinched and telling her without words that he was more than a little displeased. To his credit, he didn’t say anything, just greeted her with a quiet, “Welcome home.”

“Thanks,” was her hedged reply. She knew two things immediately: first, Sam had it figured out already; she may have stayed out with Mikey before, but always before she’d come back a lot sooner. This time she’d been out for over twenty-four hours.

Sam wasn’t stupid. He knew.

And second, he was refusing to acknowledge it. There was practically an extra-large, trumpeting elephant in the room, and he was staunchly ignoring it.

Lisa was okay with that.

“Anything on the agenda tonight?” she asked, partly giving him an invitation and partly curious if he had any plans.

He shook his head. “Just some cable and some _delicious_ turkey and gravy,” he replied, showing her his selected meal.

She scrunched her nose, both from the smell (seriously, why did meat always have that disgusting odor?) and from Sam’s actions. He’d always been more accommodating of her vegetarian diet before. Was this his passive-aggressive way of chiding her?

Struggling against the need to sigh, she just nodded. “Alright, have fun, bro,” she said, heading to her room. She rolled her eyes as soon as her back was turned, inhaling though her nose against a bubble of annoyance.

_Let him work through it,_ she told herself as she set up her “DJ booth” (a.k.a. her laptop). _He’ll get over it. He’d be a hypocrite not to,_ she assured herself. _He’s no virgin, he has no right to throw stones._

Then, as her ancient laptop went through its excruciating boot-up sequence, she checked her phone. No texts from Mikey yet, she found with surprise. But, then, he _did_ say he had to help his bros clean up. Best to let it lie for the time being, let him text her when he had the freedom.

As it turned out, that took several hours. She was readying for bed -- saving her new mix’s progress and shutting down the laptop -- when her phone alerted her.

[missing me yet? 😘 😘 😘 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡]

Chuckling, she sent back, [did you just mash the orang heart a bunch of timse?]

[yep! 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡 🧡]

She laughed. [yep, missed you! so what’s up? im going to bed rn]

She was _not_ expecting the reply she got.

[im great! 😜 but leo’s not 😥 he might breka up with cassie]

_What?!_ [why?????]

[long story, not mine to tell 😥 but dont worry, he’s medtating on it, itll be fine]

Poor Leo. Poor Cassie. _Ugh,_ this was too sad.

[i feel bad tho 😫] she sent back.

[want me to come over and maek it better? 😜] was his cheeky reply.

_Honeybee._ [nah, its k, you got work rigth?]

[ 😭 😭 😭 😭 but i wanted to! ill totaly blwo off work for u 😘 🧡 🧡 🧡]

[ 😂 😂 im going to bed anywya! youd just be sitting here bored]

[never bored with u bae 😊]

Ugh, her heart!! Whining, she fell over on her bed, slayed by just how sweet her man was. She was starting to think that if death by affection was a real thing, she was going to be the first confirmed case of it. They’d find her corpse with a big smile on her face, hugging her phone to her chest, the screen declaring a series of texts from Mikey just overflowing with love and praise and warmth.

...She was kind of alright with that.

[goodnight baby boy 😘 💘❤💓💔💕💖💗] she sent to him.

[txt me when ur up 🧡] he sent back.

_Couldn’t stop me,_ she thought, grinning.


	34. Chapter 34

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing/sexual references)

* * *

* * *

* * *

For the next few days, Lisa felt  _ weird _ \-- “weird” because a part of her felt liberated now that she’d just let go of her inhibitions (if only for one night), but the rest of her recognized that nothing had changed. Sure, she had a bounce to her step, but that was nothing new; she always bounced a little after a fun day with her boyfriend.

It didn’t take long for the ache in her midsection to fade, and a curious vibe had her googling information regarding sex with... _ gifted _ guys. Most of it was simply logical things -- use foreplay, use lube, be aware, don’t force anything -- but finding out that she could get infections from sex horrified her.

Thus, she decided to call Lexa. It’d been a while since they’d been able to hang out, since Lexa had gone on to college and Lisa was working full-time, and this gave them a good excuse to catch up. Sure, Lisa knew she could call Jocelyn, but the fact was, Lisa was much closer to Lexa. They decided to meet at a skate park with an arcade and several restaurants within easy walking distance, and Lexa beat Lisa there.

The two women gave exaggerated, loud screams when they saw each other and rushed into a hug. The embrace lingered, the friends having missed each other deeply. And when they parted, Lisa had a to give a laugh.

The two of them always both dressed in “boyish” clothes, but different kinds of boyish, and it never failed to amuse her. Lisa was the hip hop-stroke-skater, Lexa was the practical almost-hipster, right down to the persistent plaid designs of her shirts.

And yet, somehow, Lisa thought Lexa always looked more stylish and attractive. While Lisa chuckled with a kind of pained amusement, though, Lexa looked surprised.

Glancing down and back up, Lexa checked, “Hey, Lisa? Are you wearing your...?” She gestured her own chest.

Lisa shook her head. “Nah, no binder today,” she answered. “I’ve, uh...been letting them go.”

Lexa’s brows were high, a mixture of disbelief and pride on her face. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

They moved to the side, half watching the skaters (many of whom kept trying to get the ladies’ attention, namely by showing off) and started the catch-up talk. They traded some boyfriend stories, school and work stories, family stories. Lisa had informed Lexa about Mikey almost immediately after getting together with him, fishing for advice, so for the most part Lexa was aware of Lisa’s relationship with him.

Lexa was still shocked when Lisa informed her that she’d gone ahead and had sex with him. Shocked -- but pleased.

“‘Bout time,” Lexa teased, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah,” was Lisa’s response, waving her hand.

“So...he take care of you right?” Lexa checked, scrutinizing Lisa. When Lisa bit her lip on a smile, looking away, Lexa laughed. “Hell, yeah! Glad you snagged a good one. But here’s the real question,” she added with a lower tone.

At Lisa’s tentative, anxious look, Lexa finished darkly, “Did you take care of  _ him _ right?”

At that moment, Lisa was  _ pretty _ sure her face had exploded, so intense was the rush of heat to her cheeks.

“W-what?! No,” she snapped, her nerves knotting so tight it was like she’d regressed several years. “I mean I didn’t -- nevermind! You stop that!” she added sharply when Lexa started cackling.

“Alright, alright,” Lexa said, gesturing for calm. “I’m done. So anyway, ignore all that. Tell me whatever you brought me here to say.”

Huffing, Lisa relented, breaching the subject: how to  _ sex _ . (She phrased it more innocently, but that was the gist of it.)

Lexa was quick to get serious, thankfully, listening to Lisa’s concerns and offering feedback and advice. The conversation was as comfortable as such a subject could be for Lisa; knowing only Lexa was hearing all this kept her mostly chill.

The whole thing was helpful, too. So many little things came to light that Lisa had never thought of, let alone thought to google. For example, she hadn’t considered condoms at all, though she supposed she could be forgiven for that. When one’s boyfriend couldn’t get one pregnant, what was the point?

The point, evidently, was that condoms could be -- and often came -- lubed. Who knew? (Not Lisa, that’s who.)

The biggest thing to remember, Lexa said, was just to pay attention to one another. Keep aware, say what you want from taking a break to needing more foreplay to sharing when you aren’t enjoying something. According to her, starting a sexual relationship with a new partner was a learning journey and you had to expect a lot of stumbling and stopping during the first dozen or so encounters.

Lisa didn’t mention that Mikey was so intuitive he’d done absolutely everything right, but she  _ did _ make a mental note to check with him whenever  _ she _ wanted to try something. She couldn’t imagine him turning down anything -- not the first time, anyway -- but she felt that asking was the safest course of action regardless.

How funny, she thought. Just ten minutes with Lexa and she’d already had several tiny epiphanies. Chatting was shockingly helpful, given this was such an intimate, personal subject.

Then, later, as the girls sipped a pair of Jamba Juice drinks, Lisa added, “So, this is gonna sound weird, but...”

Pausing, Lexa glanced up from her drink. “Yeah?” she prompted.

Wincing, Lisa confessed, “It’s just, Mikey was teasing me, so I told him to tell me something about me that I don’t know, and he said I’d never found boys attractive before him...and I think he’s right?” Her uncertainty made her statement a question, unsure of the truth.

Lexa shrugged. “Yeah, cause you’re demisexual.” At Lisa’s confused look, she went on, “What, you seriously never knew?”

“I don’t know that word,” Lisa told her.

“It means you can’t get sexually attracted to anyone till after you’re emotionally involved,” Lexa explained. “I’m legit surprised, Lise. I had you pegged from, like, day one. You really didn’t know?”

Was Lisa blushing again? She felt like it. “N-no?” was her confused answer. Then, growing irritated, she blurted, “Wait, what do you mean,  _ you _ knew? How?”

“Well, I mean, you never really talked about boys, but when you did, you were always talking about interests and hobbies and stuff,” Lexa told her. “Like you were always looking for a friend first. And you got all awkward whenever we talked about boyfriends and sex, but you obviously wanted it, too. That’s pretty clearly demi.”

Throwing up her hands, Lisa snapped, “Then why didn’t you tell me?! I didn’t know any of that and you should’ve known I didn’t know!” A part of her knew this was the wrong reaction to be having, but she was embarrassed and angry that Lexa had her so figured out when  _ she _ hadn’t known a damn thing.

Surprised, Lexa replied coldly, “What am I, your butler? Sorry I didn’t know you didn’t know, but it’s not my job to  _ guess _ what you want me to do!”

“No, but you saw the way I was!” Lisa shot back, starting to feel hysterical. “You  _ know _ I wanted to be loved but was too scared of boys to go for it, and you  _ never _ helped!”

Incensed, Lexa shot back, “I  _ was _ helping -- I listened to you, I kept your secrets, I encouraged you, I  _ shielded _ you! What else did you want of me?!”

“I don’t know -- something?!” With a shocked laugh at herself, Lisa spat out,  _ “Anything _ would’ve been better than what I was, anything would’ve helped! I was scared of everything and so lonely and hurt all the time and you saw  _ all _ of it, and you didn’t even make sure I knew what you knew about  _ me? _ I mean, really, Lexa?!”

Standing up, Lexa slammed her drink on the table between them, sending some of the smoothie launching into the air through the straw. Voice low and hard, ignoring the stares they were getting, she leaned in and said, “You fucking  _ hypocrite _ . How many times did I need  _ your _ help and you didn’t offer a single word? Lemme answer that for you,” she interrupted before Lisa could respond. “Dozens. Don’t you sit there and complain that I didn’t help you when you never even  _ saw _ me when I was low. I’m not your fucking pillar, Lise -- not when you’re not mine, too.”

Guilt settled in Lisa’s gut, hot and thick and making her eyes sting. She watched, silent and shocked and shamed, as Lexa apologized to the cafe then strode out. She left her drink (and its mess) behind.

And Lisa, coward that she was, did nothing to stop her.

* * *

 

Lisa lingered at the skate park for another hour or so, halfway hoping that Lexa would come back on her own, before accepting the truth: she’d fucked up. Which meant  _ she _ would have to fix this -- provided she even  _ could _ . It wasn’t exactly a skill of hers, after all.

Her whole life had been filled with what she liked to call “temporary friends”. People came and went, without fail, within a year of meeting them. As a kid this had bothered and hurt her, but with time she’d become accustomed to it. Losing Lexa would be a blow -- it’d been a long time since she’d felt this close to another girl -- but, hell, pattern recognition said it was the inevitable end.

She’d never be the person who could look back fifty years from now and see the same people at her side then and now. No matter how badly she wanted it, how hard she’d once fought for it, it simply never happened. She even had vivid memories of her best friends turning their backs on her over the course of a single summer, ignoring her the moment school started again.

It was amazing that she wasn’t a bitter wretch by now.

She’d survive, as always. And Mikey, she hoped, regardless of failing friendships and the pain therein, would still be there. After all, she’d never felt closer and more attached to another person, and she was  _ pretty  _ sure he felt the same. She may make and lose friends for the rest of her life, but she had some  _ slight _ confidence that Mikey would remain the whole way.

It’s what she wanted, at the very least, and she’d fight tooth and nail to keep him. She’d never wanted or loved anymore more and that love would have to be pried from her cold, dead fingers before she let go of it.

Still, regret had her dragging her feet on the way back home, her mind contemplating the fact that Lexa wasn’t the only person she’d lost recently -- there was also Sam. He’d become so much more distant, and maybe it was largely because the both of them were working, but they were hardly talking anymore.

He hadn’t been wrong when he’d lamented that she didn’t talk to him much anymore, but he wasn’t exactly making an effort there, himself. She thought.

She was so lost in her reverie that she was home before noticing that she’d blacked out during the entire travel. She had no memory of leaving the park, boarding the bus, or the 5-minute walk from the stop to her apartment. That was...depressing, she thought.

Things did not get better.

Sam was back home by the time she got there, and she caught him cleaning a wound on his palm. One of the hazards of his job, that.

“You okay?” she asked immediately, concern washing away her more complicated contemplations.

He gave a weak smile. “Yeah. Was installing some cabinets for a customer and the drill snapped off a chunk of wood. Cut me pretty good. I’m just keeping it clean now.” Jutting his chin at her, he asked, “Where’ve you been?”

Wincing, she confessed, “With Lexa. We met up and had a day. But, um...I messed up, Sam,” she added more quietly. Shame descended again, thick and heavy, the weight making her head bow.

He turned off the water, then strode around the counter as he wrapped up his hand again. “Hey, what happened?” he ventured, a mixture of anger and sympathy in his voice.

She recognized that tone. He’d always been overprotective to the point of assuming everyone else hurt her, not the other way around. For the most part, her perspective had been identical; it didn’t matter if she’d caused someone else distress.  _ She _ thought she’d been good, so of course that meant she was free of all blame.

This thing with Lexa had her reexamining her past, though, and little by little she was recognizing how wrong she’d been. She hadn’t just lost some of her friends -- she’d driven them away. Now Lexa was among that number.

_ My fault, _ she thought, grim.

Shrugging, she muttered, “S’my fault. I got mad at her for nothing. She left. I told you I messed up,” she told him.

Sorrow filled his features. Reaching up with his good hand, he pet her hair, replying, “Well, that’s a first. Wanna call her? I can back you up,” he offered.

She shook her head. “It’s not a first, actually, and I kinda deserve it,” she said. Withdrawing, she brushed his hand away, inclining her head to her room. “Think I’ll just stew for a while, okay? Just let me know when you’re hungry and I’ll make dinner.”

Normally neither of them cooked, but Lisa had a habit of doing so when she was bummed out. Thanks to some sessions with Mikey, too, she’d learned a lot, and her dishes had gotten better as a result. Sam could complain about Mikey all he wanted, she thought, but he was definitely reaping the benefits of her relationship with the mutant.

She sort of ghosted into her room, flopped over on her bed, and tried to think of what to do next. Her options weren’t great; she’d just pushed Lexa away and she had no experience with reconnecting -- or even apologizing, for the most part. Maybe that part had been out of her control, though. She couldn’t recall any of her ex-friends actually  _ telling _ her when they had an issue; they would just stop talking to her one day and that was the last contact they had.

And when you didn’t know if you’d done anything wrong, why bother apologizing?

But...Lexa was different, Lisa thought. Worth the effort. She’d never had such a close friend before and the last thing she wanted was to lose contact. Sure, Lisa could argue that she had Jo now, too, but Lexa and Jo were totally different -- and, more to the point,  _ Lisa _ and Jo were totally different. Ultimately Lisa needed someone who knew her mind, who shared her interests, and that was Lexa.

Sighing, Lisa maneuvered to her stomach, stuffed a pillow under her chin, and checked her phone. No messages. No surprise there; these days 99% of her messages were from Mikey, and he’d still be asleep right now. And though she was scared, she made the decision to text Lexa.

_ Start small, _ she told herself.

[i’m sorry]

[can we talk?]

There, she thought. That was a good enough starter. She didn’t imagine Lexa would reply right away, but Lexa wasn’t the type to ignore someone. Whether this went sideways or not, she would at least answer the texts.

Or so Lisa hoped.

Three hours later and she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Mikey was up by then and sent her a few flirty, cheesy texts, commenting on how warm she was when she blushed and how adorable she was. For the most part Lisa just responded as she usually would, with floods of emotes and exaggerations. She was still bummed despite how her boyfriend always made her smile, and she didn’t want him worrying about her.

She’d tell him eventually, just not until she had something to actually tell.

Then he made what had to be the worst joke of his life: they somehow got on the subject of drying racks for dishes and he sent her the most ridiculous set of texts she’d ever received.

[i know how they feel, being dirty all the time]

[i need a good washing]

[wanna help? 😜]

_ Oh my god, Mikey, _ she thought, laughing out loud. He was so...perfect. Raunchy and silly and incorrigible, and always just what she needed -- especially now that she was finally getting over her sex aversion. Naughty comments didn’t make her clam up anymore, and she was so, so thankful for that.

She’d always hated that part of herself.

Now she replied simply:

[sure] 

[come get me? 🧡]

The fact that he didn’t reply right away told her that he was in the middle of getting his shoes on or something, and soon enough she received an agreement from his end.

[30 min]

She grinned. Then, getting up, she decided to take the opportunity to get in a quick shower. Sam was busy with a game when she walked by the living room, offering her a single glance in between licking and chewing at his lips, focusing hard. From the sounds of it he was playing a shooter; no surprise, there.

Her shower was as bare as she could make it: wash hair, wash body, get out. Luckily having short hair meant that section was over almost before it could begin. By comparison she couldn’t imagine how long it would take to wash hair like Jo’s. So thick, so long, so curly -- it must be a nightmare.

Maybe she’d ask Jo about it sometime. That could be an interesting little conversation. It’d be distracting, at least, and that was  _ something. _

She was done pretty quick, dressed and ready to go with ten to spare. After grabbing some spare clothes in case she decided to stay the night -- she had work tomorrow, after all -- she headed out.

Sam, still engrossed in his game, suddenly snapped to attention. “Hey, where you going?” he asked.

She was pretty sure they both knew already.

“To see Mikey,” she told him, a hand on the doorknob. “Sorry about dinner. I might stay the night, so don’t worry if I’m not back tonight.”

At that, he scowled at the television.

Not wanting to get into a fight, she pulled the door open; Sam chose then to comment snarkily, “Can’t believe my own sister could sink so low.”

In a snap, Lisa went from “doesn’t want to fight” to “strapped on her boxing gloves”. She shut the door again, dropped her backpack, and turned to Sam with a hard stare.

“Low?” she echoed. “Unless you mean elevation, I don’t know what you mean by that.”

He half-glared at her. “I think you do,” was his ambiguous answer.

She crossed her arms. “Remember, Sam, I’m stupid. I don’t get little hints like that. You have to explain.”

She knew exactly what he meant, but she would damn well force it out of him. Word. By. Word.

Putting herself down was one of the surest ways to get Sam riled, and she could already see it was working as intended. He got up, jaw set, and snapped, “You’re  _ not _ stupid, Lise. And you know what I mean.”

“Clearly, I don’t,” she returned. “Spell it out for me.”

“You  _ know _ ,” he insisted.

“Say it,” she pressed. When he hesitated, she hummed lightly, then said, “Ah, I get it. You  _ can’t _ say it. Cause you know you’re wrong. Admit it,” she told him.

“I’m not wrong! This whole  _ thing _ with that -- that  _ creature _ is what’s wrong!” he blurted.

Lisa could confidently say she had never ‘seen red’ before that comment hit her. Impulsively, she reached out and slapped Sam, and before she could stop it, she was snapping, “There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with Mikey! Or my relationship with him! You, Sam --  _ you’re _ what’s wrong! Why--why are you being such a freaking asshole lately?!”

Sam was briefly stunned by the slap, and then he rallied. “Asshole?” he echoed, shock turning to rage. “I’m an asshole for trying to protect you?!”

She threw up her hands -- Sam flinched, and yeah, that made her feel a little bad -- and she threw back, “Protect me from what?! Happiness?!”

“No -- it’s not real, Lisa!” he insisted. “He’s not human, he has no soul--”

What the  _ hell? _ Sam was throwing  _ doctrine _ at her, now? She cut him off with a sharp, “ _ You _ don’t get to decide if he has a soul or not! I know he does -- I’ve seen it, felt it -- and even if he didn’t, who freaking cares?! If you knew him like I do--”

“He’s a  _ monster _ , Lisa!” Sam interrupted.

She almost screamed. In fact, she couldn’t explain how or why she didn’t; somehow her rage flew so high right then it completely eluded her grasp. Instead of exploding, she heard herself reply dumbly, “Well, then, guess that makes me a monster lover, doesn’t it?”

Sam was stunned. That blaring elephant in the room suddenly came into focus for the both of them, and she just knew Sam was about to lose his mind.

She was right. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was to see him go from anger to tears.

Eyes watering, he confessed weakly, “Been trying not to think about that. You losing your soul to that thing.”

“His name is Mikey,” she hissed through her teeth. “And it wasn’t my soul I lost. It’s my heart. You were right, Sam -- I’m in love with him.”

He flinched. “Saying you love him, having sex with him...you’re not my sister anymore, are you?” The way he looked at her then was bizarre; they both felt betrayed, sure, but Sam was looking at her like she’d become some soulless husk of a being.

A whimsical part of her wanted to make a joke of this -- maybe make her voice all gritty as she replied  _ there is no Lisa anymore _ or something to that effect -- but her brother’s words stopped her. This was  _ serious _ , and jokes wouldn’t do a damn bit of good.

“Of course I’m still your sister,” she told him. “But why can’t I also be me? Why can’t I also be Mikey’s girlfriend? Why can I only be one thing to you?”

Sam was quiet for a moment, side-eying her with a mixture of hurt and disappointment (ouch), before saying, “That’s...not the point. The point is that...you went too far. I was willing to let you just have a boyfriend, get it out of your system maybe...but you went and  _ had sex _ with him.” He shuddered as he spoke those words, and it rent a hole in her chest.

“And it was the best night of my life,” she replied, knowing this would hurt him right back and taking a vindictive satisfaction in that. “I’m planning on having a repeat soon,” she added with a measure of sadistic pleasure.

Her brother’s reactions...well, they were what she’d hoped for, flinching and reflexively gagging, but...at the same time...it hurt to see.

_ What are you saying? _ a part of her demanded.  _ What do you get for hurting him back? _

Nothing, really. Not a damn thing except temporary satisfaction.

And part of her pain was in knowing just how badly Sam was reacting to knowing she had a sex life now. Confused and disbelieving, she added, “What’s with you? Why’re you so hypocritical? How come you get to have sex and I don’t?”

“I was having sex with  _ people,” _ he told her around another gag.

“Mikey’s people,” she insisted.

“Lisa, it’s not--”

“Not the same?” she finished for him, irritated. “I’m so glad I’m not Catholic right now. Would you have stoned me to death for having premarital sex, Sam?” she challenged. “According to the Bible, as my brother you  _ own _ me. Is that what you want? Is that why you keep talking about races and souls and whatever?”

He winced, then soldiered on, “No -- this has nothing to do with the Bible, Lisa!”

“Then what’s your damn problem?” she snapped.

“It’s--” he started, then cut himself off. Once more she saw his eyes gloss over with tears.

Sensing she just might be on a roll, she swept on, blurting, “What is it? Worried about diseases? Pregnancy? He can’t get me pregnant, you know -- having sex with him is better than having sex with any  _ human _ man, since you’re all, y’know, worried about race and shit. Racist,” she added, sneering.

“No!” he snapped, those tears thickening even as he clearly got riled all over again. “It’s just  _ wrong--” _

“Explain how!” she demanded.

“It just is!”

“That’s not an explanation!”

“Lisa, just -- it’s not right!”

“Why?!” she screamed.

“Because you were supposed to love  _ me!” _ he shouted back.

At that, Lisa physically recoiled, bumping into the cabinet behind her. A cold weight settled in her chest, and she saw her own shock reflected in Sam’s face as his words hit home. For several long moments neither of them acted nor spoke, just caught in stun as a revelation played in Lisa’s mind.

Sam. The guardian. The one who came running when she had any problems. The one who got so riled whenever she was harmed or ridiculed that he physically attacked perpetrators. The one who couldn’t stand it when he didn’t know where she was. The one who still sometimes tried to hold her hand when they were out together...

Oh. Oh,  _ god _ .

“Sam,” she breathed, her mind violently denying the conclusion trying to form. “Sam...tell me that was a lie.”

He hesitated, then looked away, face crumbling as tears began falling.

God, no. It couldn’t be true.

“T-tell me you were joking,” she insisted.

He shook his head. Then, voice shaky and broken, he confessed aloud, “I’m in love with you.”

Lisa felt sick. Her stomach was all but cramping, and she had to fight to keep from doubling over. “What? How?” was her shocked, breathy response.

Sam shook his head again, replying between sobs, “I-I don’t know...I just d-do...”

_ I need to get out of here, _ she thought, even as she remained rooted in place.  _ No, _ she told herself,  _ I need to know...I need to fix this. _

“Sam...you freaking hypocrite,” she hissed, her conflicting emotions making her voice all but a warble. “Telling me all that b-s about being wrong, and this?  _ Y-you’re _ what’s wrong!”

All at once, he turned a scowl at her, though the impact was lessened by the tear tracks he kept swiping off his face. “You think I don’t know that?!” he demanded. “You think I don’t know that I-I’m being crazy?! You think I haven’t tried to tell myself I’m just --  _ confused?” _

She barely heard him, her mind so focused on the hypocrisy he’d been displaying. “I can’t believe you,” she growled. “You want me to, what -- stop one ‘wrong’ relationship to have another? With you?” Oh, god, she almost  _ retched _ saying that.

“No -- that’s stupid, I know that,” he insisted. “I was never gonna... _ do _ anything. I mean a part of me kinda hoped, but--”

“Shut up. Right now,” she warned.

To her surprise, he acquiesced, dropping the sentence. And then he went on, “Look, the point is...I was never gonna tell you. I figured it would just...go away with time. I’d move on, you’d move on, we’d end up with our own families, the whole bit. But then this whole thing with -- with  _ Mikey,” _ he hissed, the word seeming to burn his mouth, “happened, and...I started going crazy. It’s not right,” he told her again, a kind of pleading look to his eye.

God, what the hell was happening? She might’ve lost her best friend today, and now...she’d lost her brother.

Fighting off the crawling feeling in her throat, she commented quietly, “Mikey’s waiting for me. I’m leaving.” She grabbed her backpack off the floor, slinging it over her shoulder.

Then Sam reached out, saying, “Wait, Lisa --”

She ducked away from his hand, snapping, “Don’t touch me!”

He flinched, recoiling, and she saw his expression crumble further. But she couldn’t let herself feel bad about that; he’d brought this on himself. And...and she couldn’t be around him. Not now.

As she opened the door, she said, “I’m moving out,” and then she left the apartment behind. The other side of the door offered no sanctuary, though; she could hear it as Sam broke down, sobbing louder.

God, if she stayed she’d end up comforting him.  _ Him! _ The guy who--

_ Nope, don’t even think it, _ she told herself.

It took a little extra effort to get her legs moving, and before she knew it she was outside. Her heart was pounding from the confrontation, a mixture of fear and revulsion and anger, and she realized after a minute of waiting that she was pacing constantly.

Soon enough the familiar manhole cover was shoved aside and she wasted no time jumping down it. Mikey half-caught her, enthusiastically hugging her tight and smooching her all along one side of her face.

Five minutes ago she would’ve returned his affection with her own, but right now she was too scrambled to react. And, of course, Mikey noticed immediately, withdrawing to give her a concerned, tentative look.

“You okay, bae?” he checked, brushing her hair aside.

She couldn’t answer that. “Um...so, I have news,” she began, unsure exactly what she was saying. “Get the door, and we can talk, okay?”

He nodded, his concern shifting to a mild kind of terror. Once the manhole cover had been replaced, he cupped her face, trying to read her. If anything but what had happened today had occurred, she suspected he’d have been able to puzzle it out just by reading her emotions.

But, this...he never would guess it on his own.

“Today’s...been kinda hard,” she began carefully. Already she could feel tears starting to well as she thought about it, contemplating her fight with Lexa and subsequent fight with Sam. “Um, do you...remember Lexa?”

“Your friend from school?” he checked. She could see him reacting to her emotions in kind, a shine coating his eyes as hers did the same.

“Yeah. We had a fight,” she explained. “I, um...I wasn’t gonna tell you about that, cause it’s like, it’s a ‘me’ thing. I was gonna try and make things right on my own. But then, just now...I had a fight with Sam, too...and I just...” She shook her head, words failing her, and pressed herself into Mikey to hide there in his arms.

The way he held her then was both tight and gentle, and she felt her emotions begin to spiral out of control now that she knew she could let them free.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, lightly rubbing her back and petting her hair. “I got you now. You’re safe.”

Those words undid the last of her restraint. She lost it, starting to bawl as her mind examined all the ways she’d royally fucked her own relationships today. And, as she cried, she unthinkingly bit out little words and phrases.

“S-sorry...I’m sorry...this isn’t w-what I w-wanted....none of it...”

“It’s not your fault,” Mikey was replying. “It’ll be okay. I’m here. You’re safe,” he repeated, over and over.

It just made her cry harder.

Guilt was batting her around like a plaything right then. She could only think of all the ways she was the antagonist in both her fights. She hadn’t been there for Lexa when she’d needed her, and she had forced a fight with Sam when she could’ve just left well enough alone. Worse, after putting him through the wringer, she’d just...

“I l-left him, Mikey...all alone...I’m such a s-shit sister...”

“No, it wasn’t,” Mikey soothed, nuzzling her ear. “You did nothing wrong.”

_ You did nothing wrong. _

Those words broke what remained of her strength, flooding her with relief and battling against the guilt for supremacy. Worse, that only made her feel more guilty, and soon it had her reduced to a crumpled wreck.

_ You did nothing wrong. _

She could do nothing else but let out her emotions as Mikey picked her up and took her to a better place to sit and relax. She was practically a ball at this point, and she gratefully remained curled in her lap as she slowly recovered from her bout of emotional instability.

_ You did nothing wrong. _

She repeated this to herself as many times as her mind could manage under the onslaught of memories and pain and confusion and anger. She needed it beat into her to withstand what she guessed the future would be like. After all, sooner or later she’d have to tell her mother and grandparents about Mikey, and, well...

Sam’s declarations about souls and good and evil were going to be a relaxing Sunday chat compared to the hell her grandparents would unleash, she knew it.

_ You. Did. Nothing. Wrong, _ she told herself fiercely, even as she hiccuped and sobbed and worried endlessly over whether or not that phrase was actually true.

It wasn’t until all that had passed, leaving her a shivering, snuffling wreck, that Mikey asked the pivotal question that must’ve been burning in his mind this entire time.

“What happened?” 


	35. Chapter 35

**Rating:** X (swearing/sexual content)

* * *

* * *

* * *

Mikey...didn’t know what to say. Surprising, isn’t it? But he’d never been in this situation before and he wasn’t even sure what he was feeling -- other than a general _unsettled_ sensation.

Lisa, his lovely, perfect girl, had just told him that her own brother had confessed to being in love with her. And he felt weirdly incapable of reacting. He did everything in his power to comfort her, of course, but words escaped him and he couldn’t think of a single thing to do about this.

Aside from one specific question, that is.

“Did he...did he touch you?”

Startled, Lisa looked up from where she’d been nestled against him. “What? No, of course not,” she denied, giving him a genuine dumbfounded look. “Sam’s never hurt me, not once,” she told him.

With an inner wince, Mikey corrected, “That’s...not what I meant.”

She was puzzled for a second, thinking, before giving a cringe and shaking her head. “No, it’s alright. He didn’t...just no.” Eyes dropping to the ground, she added more quietly -- as if to herself, “He said he was never gonna tell me. He was never gonna...y’know, do anything. He was waiting for it to just go away and whatever.”

Definitely talking to herself, he concluded. And he gathered this information she was giving, painting a picture for himself. According to her, Sam had insulted Mikey, so she’d retaliated and fought with him. That fight turned into the incestuous confession, and now she was here, in the sewers, with Mikey, as she cried out her riotous emotions. Worse, the way she’d described Sam at the end told him that the boy was awash with regret and was crying, himself.

From Mikey’s perspective, their formerly icon-clad sibling relationship was now in tatters...and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. At least it sounded like Sam had punished _himself_ , sort of, so Mikey didn’t have to go the revenge route. Rather, he could focus on Lisa, on distracting her and soothing her and helping her get over it.

He much preferred that, anyway.

He hurt for her, too -- a lot -- but he could push that aside to get this job done. In fact, he decided then to start now, shifting so he could get both arms around her and nuzzle into her hair. When he found her ear, he nipped, and she squirmed and giggled.

“S-stop,” she chided, but when she looked up there was an appreciative glint in her watery eyes.

_Mission accomplished._

Stroking her cheek lightly with the backs of his fingers, he ventured, “How ‘bout we go back to my place? Donnie made me a copy of Black Flag a couple days ago.”

Granted, he hadn’t been planning on _playing_ it today -- not after that invitation she’d given him -- he’d been planning on indulging in her body. But this issue put a different spin on things and he was opting to go the safer route of hanging out until he knew it was okay to ask for more.

She tilted her head, thinking. “Assassin’s Creed?” she checked. At his nod, she smiled, though most of the light in her eyes remained dimmed. “Sweet. I never got a chance to play that one.”

Then she hesitated, suspicious, and demanded, “Wait -- Donnie _made_ you a copy? How?”

Mikey shrugged. “The way Donnie do,” he deadpanned.

She snorted, amused -- it seems -- against her will. Nodding, she pushed herself to her feet and stretched her arms above her head.

For a moment he stayed right where he was, admiring her form. Christ above, she was sexy, he thought as he ate up the way she arched and groaned. He had the strongest impulse to just lean forward and start kissing and nipping the sliver of skin she showed as her shirt lifted with the move. Her little navel piercing seemed to be beseeching him to do just that.

If it weren’t so cold right now -- and if her emotional state wasn’t in danger of collapsing any second -- he might’ve done it.

Instead, he seized her hips, dove in, and blew raspberries against her stomach before she could react.

Her reaction was pure gold to him: she shrieked, the sound turning into loud, outrageous laughs as she wriggled and clawed at him in an attempt to stop him. She doubled over, then arched, fighting to free herself from his superior grip, and though he stopped right away, he kept his hold on her until he was sure she wasn’t going to topple from her own struggles.

As he giggled mischievously, she turned a half-hearted glare on him. “J-jerk,” she commented without an ounce of anger.

He grinned wide, then finally rose. Offering his hand, he asked, “Long way or short way?” (That was their code for ‘walk’ or ‘skate’.)

“Long way,” she said, taking his hand. Leaning on him, she added softly, “Kinda feeling, like...weirdly tired right now.”

Understanding, he leaned in to kiss her temple. “Could carry you,” he offered.

She smiled, even as she shook her head. “S’alright. But thank you. For, um...for everything,” she said, looking at him as if...

 _As if I’m her hero,_ he thought, and the revelation returned that unsettled feeling to him. After all, did he really want to be her hero in _this_ specific situation? He couldn’t decide -- but regardless of _want,_ he was happy to be here for her.

Tilting her chin up with his free hand, he answered, “Anything, anytime, bae,” and dropped his head to kiss her. He felt her hand settle high on his chest as he intentionally poured his emotion into this kiss, telling her wordlessly that she could always count on him.

When he drew back, intent on telling her verbally as well for good measure, her hand gripped his necklace to tug him back down.

It was pathetic how much that little move rocked him. Had he ever told her how much he loved it when she did that? He resolved to tell her so just in case -- right before her kiss swept all thought from his mind.

It was amazing, the way she kissed him right then. His kiss a second ago had said, _I’m right here._ Her kiss, though? Hers said, _You’re not going anywhere._

He liked hers better.

They lingered for several moments, and he couldn’t help holding her flush against him in the meantime. She was so soft and warm -- well, she had a chill now, thanks to the cold sewers -- that he never could resist touching her at least a little. Even holding her hand was a necessary act, as far as he was concerned; having her in his grasp, sharing breath, was a luxury he sometimes felt he didn’t deserve.

But he’d damn well bask in that luxury as long as he could.

“Dayum,” he purred as the kiss ended. He was feeling so warm inside now -- more so than the mutagen itself could manage -- that it had him wondering if he could will himself to teleport them back home instead of having to walk there. After all, Goku did it; how hard could it be? Sure, Dragonball Z was an anime, but there was nothing saying teleportation was _impossible._

He just really wanted them back in his room as soon as he could.

Vying for patience -- his weakest skill, for truth -- he instead kissed her knuckles and gestured them onwards.

Lisa was blushing again, he saw. _So cute,_ he thought. Even when she initiated the kiss, she still ended up getting embarrassed one way or the other. That was fine with him, though.

She looked amazing in pink.

* * *

 After arriving at the Lair, Mikey had Lisa go on up to his room while he went to “gather snacks” for the gametime to come. And while he absolutely grabbed their usual haul (thanks to Jo their pantry has been kept even _more_ fully stocked than before, so they always had everyone’s favorite everything on hand), his main goal was to bring his brothers in for a quick update.

It was short and simple: “She had a fight with her bro and said she’s moving out. I offered to let her stay here but she hasn’t decided yet. And don’t talk about Sam. At all. She’s...really upset.”

His brothers shared concerned looks, but Mikey didn’t stick around to answer any questions. His girl needed him and he wasn’t staying away any longer than he absolutely had to.

Unfortunately their time was short; patrol was coming up soon so Mikey only had a few hours. With how stressed Lisa was, he wasn’t sure that was enough time to help her relax. Sure, he’d gotten her to laugh and smile plenty, but he saw how quickly and easily those moments had passed back into despondency.

It was going to take _a lot_ of Mikey lovin’ to get her back to normal. Lucky for her he was willing to put in the hours.

Unsurprisingly, Black Flag didn’t have as much of a positive impact as he’d hoped. He’d gotten a PS4 set up specially for it and everything, so they reclined in his oversized beanbag chair in the relative privacy of his room while she played. It was a typical game night in all ways except one.

She was out of focus. She kept losing track of what she was doing in the game, the battle sequences were sloppy at best, and every so often she would pause the game and drift away in thought. He always snapped her out of that when he saw it happen, of course, but the fact that it was happening at all was worrisome.

She was fretting over this thing with her brother _hard_. So Mikey did what he did best: tried to keep her smiling. He put more effort into it than usual, too, reminding her of everything she still had with little jokes and puns while studiously ignoring the one thing she’d lost.

Granted, it was a really, really big thing, but still.

It was going frustratingly slowly, though -- Lisa was giving only the barest of smiles and chuckles at his words -- right up until he hit the gold mine.

Their first date.

“Hey, remember that concert we went to?” he asked.

Another tiny smile curled her lips. “Yeah, what about it?”

“...And remember that makeout we had? You in my arms, legs around my waist...” He intentionally lowered his voice to a suggestive purr, knowing it would get it her, but it had the _un_ intentional side-effect of putting him back in the moment.

God, she’d felt amazing against him...

A soft burn began in her cheeks. Pausing the game, she turned a sideways look at him, cautiously curious. “Yeah...?” she prompted. “Where you going with this?”

He hesitated a second, making sure her attention was riveted, before confessing, “You told me you wanted me to have what I wanted, and I never told you this, but...I was _this close_ taking you up on that,” he said, pinching his fingers almost closed for effect.

She gave a nervous laugh. “Y-yeah, I could tell,” she intoned.

“I still think about it sometimes,” he went on. “What might’ve happened. God, your smell was driving me crazy that night,” he told her.

She bit her lip, averting her gaze. Her mind was back there, he was sure, reliving that event. It was _so_ hot.

Worse, he could smell that the thoughts were getting to her. It was subtle -- for now -- but definitely there. And it was getting him riled more than his thoughts were.

He brought his nose to her cheek, giving a soft inhale to catch more of that divine fragrance, before going on, “I imagined stripping you down, kissing you everywhere, hearing you moan my name...I was thinking about it for, like, an hour after I told you to tell me ‘no’. Took me forever to get it out of my head.”

“Mikeyyyy,” she whined, wriggling a little. “This’s so unfair. You’re unfair,” she accused him.

“Guilty,” he agreed easily. “I had the _worst_ case of blue balls that night--”

She jolted at that, slapping his arm with a sharp, “Mikey!!”

Oh but he wasn’t done yet. Her attention was entirely on him right then, exactly as he’d intended, and he was keeping it right there as long as he could.

He looped his arms around her, bringing her in closer so he could purr against her cheek, “I told myself I was being so _bad_ for thinking about you like that after we’d only been dating for a week, but I couldn’t _stop_ , either. Kept beating off to you all night--”

She shivered, and it sent a thrill through him. Oh yeah, she was right there with him now, he thought.

Going in for the kill, he finished, “Came for you _four times_ before the night was over.”

Biting her lips on a whimper, she winced, giving a little writhe that told him exactly which parts of her needed the most attention now. And then she turned the tables on him, straightening up and giving him an almost sultry look.

“Yeah?” she returned. Leaning in _almost_ close enough to kiss, she murmured, “Me, too.”

Surprise filled him. _Seriously?_ For a second he couldn’t think of a response; then, forcing his voice to keep its cool, smooth timbre, he replied, “That’s _so_ hot. But was it four times, baby girl?”

He’d issued that challenge expecting her to blush. Instead, she shrugged.

“No, just the once,” she answered, “but it was so good it put me right to sleep.”

_Fuck!!_

A strangled kind of grunt escaped him, like his own mental curse trying and failing to be vocalized. Leaning back in the chair fully, he let out a groan, envisioning Lisa cumming and then passing out -- an easy thing to imagine, as it’d happened before -- and getting irrevocably aroused from it.

With a shock of realization, he admitted that she’d just won this round. A rare thing, that, but one he was pleased about.

Then Lisa went and made it worse, dropping the controller aside and moving to straddle him. His hands seized her hips immediately, finding her giving him a dark, needy kind of look.

Well, he knew where _this_ was going.

...He was right.

After grinding on Mikey to fruition -- an act that was thrilling in its own right, knowing they’d both reached the point where disrobing would just take too long -- she collapsed on him, shivering from her high. She groaned and hummed into his neck, and he responded by letting out a long string of satisfied churrs.

It wasn’t as mind-bending and world-rocking as being inside her, getting to feel it when she came, but he had no complaints. Other than his sodden shorts, anyway. Whatever; he could change in a minute.

Petting her hair, he teased, “Was it as good as then?”

“Mm, can’t remember,” she answered, slurring a little. “But I guess that means ‘yes’.”

He’d take it.

Hoping to keep her thoughts centered on him, he asked, “So, wanna tell me about any other times...?”

She gave a soft, nervous chuckle. _There’s my girl,_ he thought, grinning. It never took long for her to come right back to the shy side of herself, did it? It was so adorable he _still_ couldn’t decide if he wanted that to change or not.

It was sexy and seductive as hell when she turned all “black widow” on him, yeah, but _this_ is the Lisa he knew best, the one who’d so easily stolen his heart. He enjoyed her sultry side plenty, but he felt he’d miss it if she ever really got over her nervous side.

Besides, helping her calm down after their trysts was one of his favorite things. (Along with, y’know, kissing her, making her laugh, nuzzling her, painting each other’s nails, playing games with her, and of course the trysts themselves.)

“I could tell you about mine,” he offered when she didn’t reply.

She shook her head, giggling, then drew back to give him a little, pleased smile. “I know what you’re doing,” she told him.

“Really? Could you tell me? I missed the memo to myself,” he joked.

Grinning, she dropped her chin, then said, “Thank you, Mikey.”

He beamed. “It was that good?”

She snorted, falling back into his arms. “Remind me why I love you,” she half-complained.

“Oh, you know, cause I’m the epi--...epi...tome? The best of everything,” he concluded.

“Except articulation,” she teased.

“Ouch. Hang on, I need to borrow a thesaurus from Donnie to get a good comeback to that.”

He made no move to get up, of course, and Lisa didn’t move a muscle either. Instead, he slipped his arms around her into a full hold, expressing his emotions as clearly as he could.

...Right up until she fell asleep. It’d happened so many times by now he could recognize it by feel alone, could help it along with certain soothing motions. As soon as he felt her start to get heavier, he began petting her hair again, and in moments all the tension left her form.

Pride suffused him. _He’d done it._ With only a few hours’ time available to him, he’d gotten her relaxed to the point of falling asleep.

Now all he had to do was get her into bed and clean her up a little. And get her bra off. And her shoes. And socks.

...Maybe he hadn’t quite thought this through ahead of time.

* * *

 When Lisa woke up, she was alone. On a waterbed. It was warm and comfortable to the point she wasn’t even using a sheet, and her pants were off. And her bra. And as she got her bearings, she received the surprise of her life.

Strings of UV lights were turned on -- had they been there all along? -- revealing...one of the most moving sights she’d ever beheld.

It took her just a second to recognize that she was in her boyfriend’s room, even with the lights giving it a foreign look, but the thing that surprised her was the _huge_ amount of writing on the walls that hadn’t been visible before. Some of it was silly -- tags and the like, Tic-Tac-Toe games, cartoony cat faces -- but the rest of it was _love notes_.

To her.

_I love you._

_Your smile is my favorite of all smiles._

_I’m so glad we met. Seriously. No, seriously._

_Your dimples are so cute, I love them._

_I tried to count how many things I love about you, but I don’t have enough fingers. :(_

_Sleep well!_

Her hand settled on her chest as she looked them over, reading line after line -- much of it in beautiful cursive script, no less. She hadn’t known his handwriting was so pretty! Not to mention everything was in multiple colors, rainbows covering each wall. He’d even changed some of the colors around in the same little notes, highlighting this or that word in ways that pleased and amused her greatly.

But the best part was when she spotted a _list_ . Above it was a cartoon version of herself, from the shoulders up, her hair drawn in a full spectrum of rainbow spikes. _Inspiration for another day,_ she thought, admiring it for a second before getting to the list with a mixture of anticipation, nerves, and disbelief.

The full list was three columns wide, numbered up to 38. And these things seemed to cover everything about both _her_ and _them_. A few of them stuck out above the others, and she found herself reading them over and over as her eyes watered and her heart warmed.

  1. _Did you know your eyes light up every time I tell you you’re cute? They do. I love it._
  2. _Your laugh makes me so happy. Sorry if I overdo it with the jokes, I just can’t help but wanna make you laugh all the time._
  3. _I love it when we swap the controller back and forth. Only Donnie really plays games with me, and he also has his projects so doesn he doesn’t do it as much as he used to._
  4. _I love everything about you._
  5. _(I was going to end it with 12 but then I thought of some more.)_



Well, that explained why the first column was just 12 but the other two were 13 each, she thought.

  1. _You look so happy when we’re skating together._
  2. _And when you DJ._
  3. _You have the best taste in music, and your mixes are killer._
  4. _You’re breathtaking._
  5. _You’re so sweet and kind. You’re the most precious person I’ve ever known. And I’ve watched a ton of anime._
  6. _You were never scared of me._
  7. _You deserve the best of everything. Anything you want or need, tell me. I’ll figure it out. I promise._
  8. _You have the sweetest, most selfless heart. I’d do anything to keep it safe._
  9. _There’s so much to love about you, I’ll never finish this list. But that’s ok. I’ll just keep adding to it until I run out of words. Or walls. Whichever._



At the end she was having trouble reading everything through the film of tears in her eyes. This kind of bordered on a creeper thing, and she admitted that, but the lingering scent of chemicals told her that he’d done this while she was sleeping -- because he knew she needed it. She needed to see such uplifting comments, to know that she wasn’t making some kind of terrible mistake with her life.

Snuffling back her emotions, she decided to go looking for him -- after putting her bra back on, of course. She might be getting more and more relaxed over her size, but she was _not_ comfortable going anywhere without a bra. Yet.

Especially not when that place was a home with four barely-adult boys.

Venturing into the main chamber, she focused, looking around and listening. She heard...nothing. There was no activity to be seen, the electronics were off, no music was anywhere. That last one was what told her the guys weren’t here -- out on patrol, she guessed. And though she knew where Jo’s ballet room was, the other woman wasn’t there.

It was quiet and still, peaceful in a way yet strangely lonely. She wandered from room to room, taking in just how still and silent everything was. She was so used to _someone_ doing _something_ all the time that this lack felt bizarrely wrong. How weird, she thought.

But she wasn’t alone, and it startled her when she heard Splinter call out to her.

“Hello, dear,” he said.

She jumped, squeaking in an attempt to halt a blossoming shriek. Exhaling a shaky breath, she turned towards the voice, finding him sitting cross-legged on the large round platform that was the center of this complex.

“Hi,” she sighed, calming herself with effort.

“I apologize for startling you,” he said with a bow of his head.

She waved her hand. “It’s fine. I was lost in thought, anyway. That’s kinda on me.”

“True enough,” he allowed. Then, with a soft chuckle, he admitted, “My sons do not startle so easily, nor does Jocelyn. I’m afraid living with them has dulled my senses to what is capable of frightening another.”

“A roundabout way of saying I’m totally unaware of everything,” she replied.

“I would never voice such a disrespectful comment,” he returned.

“Key word: voice,” she shot back.

He chuckled. “You are very aware of wordplay, at the least,” he observed.

Shrugging, she commented, “That’s what a decade of side-eyed insults does to you. So anyway, what’s up?” She’d rarely interacted with the family’s patriarch, so she knew very little about him. But it was enough to tell her that he would never show cruelty -- and he was wise.

Maybe wise enough to help her with her issues. It was worth a try, right?

“What’s up?” he echoed, smiling. “Youngsters,” he said to himself, amused. “I merely wait for news from my sons. They left to patrol some hours ago, and came upon a drug operation. They’ve since gone silent to infiltrate it, and I wait for their success.”

She couldn’t help a smirk. “So confident that they’ll succeed?” she teased, though she was in no place to mock him. She had absolute confidence in those brothers, too.

“Hopeful,” Splinter corrected. “Now that we know what is up for me, what is up for you?” he asked softly.

She hesitated. She’d kind of wanted to breach this subject, but at the same time it felt weird. Talking to her mutant boyfriend’s adoptive mutant father about such personal subjects felt too invasive, even as a part of her pointed out that this was the only way she could learn to trust him. Besides, everyone else trusted him -- with their secrets, their problems, their very lives.

She trusted Mikey’s life with him. What kind of hypocrite would she be if she didn’t trust _herself_ with him?

Still, it was difficult to breach the subject. She hemmed and hawed for a few moments before beginning, hands wringing, “I’m having...well, I’m here for a reason,” she finished more bluntly.

Nodding, Splinter said, “Mikey told us you were moving out. He did not say why, aside from the fact you had a fight with your brother.”

Dropping her gaze, she admitted, “It’s...a bit more than that. Before that, I had a fight with my best friend, and it just...it made everything worse, y’know?” Sighing, she murmured, “She still hasn’t replied.”

“I see. And you miss her?” Splinter asked.

Lisa nodded. “It was my stupid fault. I got mad at her for nothing, and she...she kinda pointed out that...I’m a hypocrite. The whole time we were friends, she was there for me. And I...didn’t even see her when she needed help with anything. I feel terrible,” she finished in a soft mutter.

Shame descended all over again, clouding her thoughts with negativity. Lexa had been right to get angry with her; she’d needed a hit like that to snap her head on straight.

Thoughtful, he asked, “Have you apologized?”

She nodded.

“Then all you may do is wait. If she still wishes to be your friend,” he commented softly, “she will forgive you.”

Sighing, she accepted that.

Silence descended then, and she slowly came to realize that Splinter was just...calmly watching her. It was strange -- not because he was a rat so much, but rather because she felt like he was inviting her to keep talking.

Hesitant, she ventured, “Um, did you...have more questions?”

He smiled. “Few, in truth. But I do possess a great deal of answers, should _you_ have questions.”

That’s what started it. Hearing that subtle invitation, combined with the fact that she was _itching_ to get words out, got her to start rambling. She’d never really spoken with him before -- nothing beyond simple greetings -- and now she couldn’t seem to stop. After some time he even interrupted her to move them to his alcove so they could both sit.

By then she’d been pacing nonstop and had been getting herself worked up and was glad for the reprieve. They sat together as they -- well, she, mostly -- discussed life events and thoughts and feelings, and after what had to be an hour’s time, she noticed Splinter softly chuckling.

Suddenly realizing just how much blathering she’d done, she stopped, embarrassed. “W-what’s so funny?” she demanded in a tone that said _don’t answer that._

His response was better than she could’ve hoped for: “I’ve simply come to understand just how perfect you and my son are for one other.”

Stun settled in. Had she just...gotten approval from her boyfriend’s father? It hadn’t even occurred to her to try and get it, yet she could clearly see it -- and, in a way, could feel it.

Awkward, she replied, “Y-yeah, well, like...we mesh and whatever. But what made you think so?” she asked, curious.

He explained, “You and Michelangelo share an uncommon trait. You both possess the ability to speak easy, with genuine thought and honesty. I suspect the two of you often get lost in conversation with one another,” he added, borderline sly, “speaking much, saying little, yet listening to all.”

Lisa...didn’t know how to respond to that. It was true, definitely -- her and Mikey _never_ stop talking once they got going, yet in her memories she didn’t remember what they said so much as how often they laughed together. She could think back and give rough estimates to what the subjects had been, but she recalled her emotions more clearly than any words.

She recalled _his_ emotions more clearly than anything else.

Her embarrassment spiked, even as she felt her heart warm from this new revelation. “Uh...well...thank you for listening,” she said then, a hint of shame hitting her as she realized she’d never really let Splinter speak this whole time. Getting up, she excused herself, heading over to the kitchen.

All that talking had made her thirsty. And without thinking, she opened the fridge, spotted rows of bright orange cans, and snagged one. It was while she was holding this can, smirking at it in amusement as her mind supplied her with snippets of jokes and moments with Mikey, that she suddenly understood a pun he’d made _months_ prior.

During one of their dates, he’d handed her one of these drinks, and when she teasingly asked him if he ever drank anything else, his response had confused her.

_‘Course not. Gotta make sure you get your daily dose of Orange Crush!_

She’d offered a pity laugh at that, utterly baffled to what he’d meant. But now she got it.

He was saying she liked him -- crushing on him -- and that his signature color was orange. He was her _orange crush_.

Snorting, she laughed now, and as she compared that with her own favorite drink -- Sunny D -- she lost it even worse. Now that they’d gotten sexual, after all, she could say that he was her _sunny d_.

...She was _never_ going to tell him that, though.


	36. Chapter 36

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

High-threes for everyone!

Mikey was  _ beyond _ cheerful as the brothers headed back home. Not only had they successfully disrupted a drug ring and sent off evidence to the police, but information gathered there had  _ also _ led them to a blossoming sex slavery operation which they’d also destroyed.

They’d saved probably tens of thousands of New Yorkers from drugs  _ and _ nearly a hundred young girls and boys from slavery. Splinter was going to be so proud--!

But for Mikey, the best part of his night was still waiting. Lisa was here for the foreseeable future (his heart might just explode from glee) and he’d left her asleep on his bed, with the UV strips on, and had made a special note to her before he left. He was  _ dying _ to see if she was awake yet, if she’d seen it, what she thought -- plus, you know, he was just dying to see her.

Splinter was meditating on his circular platform when they arrived, sliding into the canal the fun way. The brothers  _ tried _ to keep quiet for him, but, well...there was no sneaking past Splinter.

Rousing, their father glanced their way, asking, “Good news, my sons?”

“The best!” Mikey blurted; Leo elbowed him.

Kneeling, Leo began giving a report, and in the meantime Mikey gave the others a token salute so he could run back to his room. Raphael did the same, though with less hyper-enthusiasm, while Donnie excused himself back to his alcove. Mikey knew what he was up to; the brain of the group kept meticulous notes and undoubtedly he was logging everything they’d done today and creating backups of all their evidence and --  _ snoooorreee. _

The youngest could already hear sounds from his room, sounds he recognized as Lisa playing Black Flag again. Sweet, she was up! That meant he could cuddle up to her and nibble on her neck and --

...and she wasn’t looking so good, he saw as he strode past the curtains, his mood instantly deflating.

The lights were back on, she was seated on the beanbag, and she had an angry pinch to her face that he was unused to seeing on her. She glanced at him but said nothing, though he  _ did _ notice a subtle softening of her features.

That was...good, right? If she looked slightly better to see him, that meant she wasn’t mad at  _ him _ . Right?

“Uh...you okay, bae?” he checked, opting to sit on the edge of his bed instead of in the chair with her, just in case she needed the space.

She took a deep breath, huffed. “Yeah and no,” she hedged. Pausing the game, she glanced down at the controller in her lap, explaining, “My mom called. She said Sam told her that we had a fight and I moved out. She said she wants me to go back and ‘fix’ things with Sam.” Wincing, she added with difficulty, “I...couldn’t tell her. What happened. But I also couldn’t just...say no. I told her I’d try.”

Well that was fucked up, Mikey thought. Sam had gotten their mother in on this? Called in the big guns?  _ What a cheap shot, _ he thought, annoyed.

Then, looking up at him, Lisa said, “I, uh...I sent Sam a text. Told him -- well, first off, that it was shitty of him to go to Mom. And that I’d hear him out, but I...I can’t see him. Is that...mean of me?” she asked, looking ashamed.

“What? No,” he denied, moving to sit beside her and pull her against him. “You have every right to keep away from him as long as you want. You did nothing wrong,” he reminded her -- this particular phrase had calmed her before, so he tried it again now.

It succeeded this time, too, and she sighed as she leaned into him. “We had another fight. He was like... ‘What’d I do so wrong?’ Basically said I was being unfair cause, like, did I choose to fall in love? No -- neither did he. I really don’t think he gets it,” she told Mikey. “Like he didn’t even stop to think about how this whole thing makes  _ me _ feel.”

A little hesitant to hear what came next, he checked, “How  _ does _ it make you feel?”

She cringed. “Like...slimy, in a way. Like there’s something wrong with me. I mean I know it’s not my fault, I  _ know _ that, I never led him on or whatever, but a part of me keeps thinking I must’ve done  _ something _ . And it messed him up. Like it’s my damn fault somehow, even though I keep telling myself it’s not.”  

_ Hell, no. _

“Hey, Lisa,” he said, firm, tilting her chin up so he could hold her gaze, “ _ none _ of this is your fault. Maybe it’s not his either,” he allowed, “but even if it is, I don’t think whose fault it is matters at all. He said he was waiting for it to go away -- you can text him back right now and tell him to stay away from you until it is. No cheating,” he added, hoping a little joke would help.

She gave a small smile.  _ Good ‘nuff. _

“Point is,” he went on, “you have  _ no _ obligations to fix anything.  _ You _ weren’t the one who broke anything. You can just...chill here. With me,” he added, giving her a wink. “Promise I won’t make any weird confessions.”

She barked a laugh. “Can’t believe you’re making me laugh about this.”

“It’s what I do,” he told her.

“Noticed,” she hinted.

Snagging her chin, he gave her a smooch -- the lip-catching, breath-stealing sort, chosen special to reroute her thinking -- then happily chirped, “So! Did you see my notes?”

He couldn’t help feeling giddy as hell, but then, he’d never tried to make love notes before. This was exciting!

Lisa went from looking pleased to blushing  _ hard _ . Ducking her head down  _ (awwww) _ she murmured, “Y-yeah, I did. You uh...wrote a lot, huh?”

“Everything I could think of,” he agreed. “Don’t leave me hanging! Did ya like it?”

She nodded. “It was...something I needed to see, I think.” Then, glancing up at last -- gawd, she looked she cute when she blushed like that -- she asked, “S-so, anyway, Splinter said you guys found a drug ring?”

“You talked to Dad?” Mikey checked. That made him happy in and of itself; he felt like screaming,  _ My girlfriend and my dad get along! _

Nodding again, she said, “We talked -- well, mostly I talked,” she added, laughing dryly. “Your dad has the patience of a saint,” she told Mikey.

He chuckled. She was damn right about that.

“He said you guys went silent cause you found a drug ring. Said he was waiting on the good news,” she hinted.

Splinter said that?! Now Mikey was even  _ happier _ , realizing just how much confidence their father had in them. It felt  _ amazing _ to know that. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, grinning wide. “It gets better, though! We didn’t just find a drug ring, we found a sex slavery ring, too!”

Lisa’s eyes widened almost to the point of becoming perfect circles. It almost made him laugh; he forced it down. Instead, he told the story, including flourishes to play up just how amazing the night had gone.

The story was a good one, too, starting with them disrupting a drug deal. Police had been called with descriptions given for both men, the dealer getting arrested for possession and the client having the goods confiscated, then being strongly encouraged to get into rehab.

Following a series of threads (mostly from Donnie’s gadgets and Leo’s logic) led them back to a warehouse. They’d infiltrated, found dozens of men and women weighing, packaging, and moving the products -- Donnie identified six different types of drugs -- and the brothers had split up to find what they could.

Over the next hour, they’d each recovered numerous notes, letters, locations, and stashes. Donnie had found and copied more than one computer’s worth of files and email correspondence. And, after all that, they notified the police and proceeded to  _ neutralize _ the workers and guards. By the time the police arrived, no one who could put up a fight was left conscious.

It was while Donnie was glancing through emails for any further leads that they came across an email talking about the sex ring. Deciding the night was still young, they went straight for it. By the time they got there news had already reached the place of the drug ring’s mass of arrests, but the men in charge figured they had no connections to the former and hadn’t done the smart thing and pack up.

Wash, rinse, repeat; the brothers snuck in, split up, gathered all information they could, and even moved the enslaved “workers” to keep them in one safe place until the police could arrive. They were instructed to barricade the door and watch over each other, and then the brothers went about neutralizing this place, too.

They stuck around on a nearby rooftop to watch the results of their labor, pleased to see a line of handcuffed men and women being led out to several large prisoner transports. It was even more rewarding to see the freed kids be taken to a line of ambulances to get checked out and cared for. That was a lot of justice dealt out in a single night.

High. Freaking. Three.

Lisa had watery eyes by the end of the story, smiling in a dumbfounded sort of way. She looked impressed and overwhelmed and -- well, cute, of course.

He booped her nose. “Whatcha thinking?” he asked, intrigued by that expression.

She flinched a little when he poked her, then grinned at him. “I’m in love with a super hero,” she said.

_ Swoon! _

He almost squealed from that comment, then proceeded to shower her with smooches and nuzzles.  _ She _ squealed as he did so, wriggling and laughing as his affection tickled her.

All in all, a fantastic night.

* * *

 

Lisa didn’t go to sleep, though she probably should have. She just felt too wired after her rest. She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but she knew she woke around four in the morning; Mikey and his brothers came back less than an hour later. Now everyone else was in bed...

...except Mikey, since he refused to sleep while she was up. For a while she fought him on the issue, trying to get him to just  _ go to bed _ , but ultimately she relented. His argument was just too good: “Long as I’m up, I can keep my bae happy.”

_ Damn _ . She couldn’t fight him after that point, though she still gave an exaggerated sigh when she gave in for effect.

They were quiet as they could be so they didn’t disturb anyone’s rest -- something they were proficient at thanks to how often they’d done it back when her ankle was still healing. Playing familiar games on mute and making up character dialogue  _ still _ amused her to no end.

Eventually, though, her alarm went off, telling her it was time to get ready for work. At the same time she could hear movement from the main chamber, learning that Jocelyn was on her way out. Right -- Jo left before seven; Lisa’s job started at nine. At least until next week’s schedule arrived, anyway.

It was at that point she realized she couldn’t stay here for long without going back to the apartment to gather more of her things. She pondered on that while she showered (alone; she convinced Mikey that the best thing he could do for her right now is get some breakfast prepared, so he went to do that) and concluded that her best bet was to sneak back while Sam was gone, pack her bags, and flee.

Lucky for her, then, she knew his schedule.

Her next issue -- after breakfast; her boyfriend made her waffles and she almost squealed from how dorky and cliche and  _ adorable _ it was -- was getting to work. She’d never gone from here to there, and her knowledge of the tunnels was still bad enough that she couldn’t confidently even find her way back to her apartment on her own.

Funny enough, it didn’t occur to her to ask Mikey. She sent him to bed since she was already leaving, and the irritating clown made her fight for every inch closer he got to his room. Eventually she resorted to pushing him, though she knew she didn’t have a prayer of moving him if he didn’t want to be moved.

He kept up the shenanigans as long as he could, including claiming he left the oven on and sidestepping her to try and get past, saying he wanted to google something real quick and heading for Donnie’s alcove, and generally pestering her for fun.

“You’re gonna make me late!” she chided, even as she laughed. Sometimes she hated that she loved him.

“Hey, I’m not  _ making _ you do anything,” he pointed out, grinning.

“Well you’re not doing what I want,” she shot back.

He pouted.

She folded her arms.

Then he struck, all but pouncing at her and kissing her before the surprise could make her shriek. Fighting off laughter -- it’d only encourage him -- she yanked back, whisper-snapping, “Okay okay, enough! I gotta get going.”

He relented with a sad air, then perked up, checking, “D’ya know where to go?”

Well, she thought, she knew where the vehicle exit was. She was sure she could find a bus stop somewhere...eventually...

Her hesitation seemed enough; Mikey tweaked her nose, then declared, “I’ll get you close, don’t worry.”

Now she was just getting concerned. “Aren’t you tired?” she checked. “You should be asleep by now.”

“No biggie,” he told her, shrugging. “You know we usually go to sleep a little later in the morning. Besides, ninja training,” he hinted. “I can’t stay up for--” Right then his head dropped and started snoring, as if he’d fallen asleep standing up.

Not buying it, she punched his arm. “Funny, Mikey,” she mocked.

He chuckled, then got a  _ little _ more serious. “Really, though, I can get you there and back. N-B-D.”

She huffed, thinking she really didn’t have time to stand around and debate this anyway. Giving in, she nodded, saying, “Alright, fine. But we gotta get going. Like, now.”

He aimed finger guns at her. “On it,” he said, backing up. They both gathered necessary items (her winter wear, her backpack, her phone; his skateboard -- yeah, he was ready way before she was) and headed out. At-freaking-last.

He tried to play the “one more kiss” game with her for a while but she put a stop to that. Being responsible wasn’t easy but she’d be damned if she started skipping work; she liked her job, after all. She’d hate to lose it cause she was goofing off with her boyfriend.

Work was very normal -- at first, anyway. Today’s coworker, Clark, manned the floor while she stayed at the counter. Several customers came and went, striking up conversation every so often, and the recorder got two new challenges. (She recognized one almost right away but opted to let the customer think it would take a while.)

Then, shortly after lunch, another customer arrived and disappeared into the rows before she could greet him. Clark found him quick, though, and the two started talking.

And bat-eared Lisa heard just enough to know that voice -- she’d heard it her whole life, after all.  _ He wouldn’t, _ she thought, a mixture of disbelief and anger surging through her. She couldn’t see over the rows, but that wasn’t a point in the customer’s favor; she and Sam were both precisely five-seven and couldn’t see over most partitions like the ones in this shop.

“Clark?” she called. “I need you over here.”

Her coworker appeared after apologizing to his customer, approaching the counter with a measure of concern. He was a super cute redhead, she thought, and she suspected he was gay but had never checked to be sure. She didn’t know how to breach that subject anyway.

“Gil forget to reset the playlist again?” he half-joked; Gil did, in fact, forget to do that pretty often, and Clark was one of few who knew how to work the complex computer’s system.

“No -- that customer?” Lisa began, speaking quietly. “Does he look shockingly like me?”

He seemed to ponder that, then replied with surprise, “Yeah, actually -- who is he?”

She sighed. “My brother. Name’s Sam. Kick him out,” she directed.

“What? Why? Did something happen?” Clark demanded, leaning closer with increasing alarm.

“Yeah -- but it’s not a work conversation,” she told him. “Just boot him.”

He nodded, gave her a salute, and headed back. She knew how this would play out already; Sam never fought unless he got angry enough, and even if he tried, Clark was half a foot taller than him -- and had been taking self-defense courses most of his life, or so he claimed. That was one reason why he worked the floor: he could forcibly remove anyone who stirred up trouble. It’d never been necessary before, and she doubted it’d be necessary now, but it was still a good thing to know. Just in case.

She couldn’t hear very clearly over the music playing over the speakers, but she could definitely hear an increase in volume. An argument started; she heard Sam say something like, “I didn’t even do anything!”

Clark responded with a smart, “We’re a small business. We have the right to refuse service to anyone. Now, out.”

She heard Sam start swearing then, but he was retreating, at least. She could see when he reached the door, and saw him turn a pleading look on her. Gesturing Clark, he said, “Say something!”

Feeling ice cold, she replied, “Goodbye.”

He narrowed his eyes, all but fuming, until Clark intervened and shoved him out of the building. Sam made a few angry gestures, then fixed his coat and went out onto the snow-covered streets.

Clark came straight back to Lisa. “How you doing?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure she could answer that, to be honest. She hadn’t expected Sam to go so low as to come to her workplace, but she’d be damned if she let him drive her away. Ignoring his presence entirely, she gave Clark a smile.

“Three hours left,” she hinted.

He nodded, getting back to the floor. She caught him glancing up at her every so often during the rest of the shift, concerned but remaining silent. She appreciated that; she  _ really _ didn’t want to talk about the fight with anyone else. Just telling Mikey had been difficult enough on her. She couldn’t stand it if anyone else knew.

Worse, she was still waiting for Lexa to respond to her texts. She wasn’t  _ too _ worried about that yet; she knew Lexa was the type to wait and cool off before dealing with an issue, so Lisa was staying patient. But at the same time, a part of her was desperate to be forgiven, to the point where she wrote several more apology texts -- right before deleting them, leaving them all as unspoken, sorrowful whispers in her own mind.

An almost hysterical part of herself wondered why she was still trying with this whole “aboveground” nonsense. She’d lost two of her most important relationships in the same day; why did she still go to work? Why not just quit her job and live with Mikey in his home? It’d be so much easier...

No -- she refused to give in to such depressing thoughts. She hadn’t fought her whole life to live the way she wanted to just give up now and hide in a hole. This thing with Sam would pass one way or the other, and as much as it’d suck to lose Lexa, that wasn’t the end of the world.

By the time her shift was over she was feeling a little better. And, to her surprise, she found Jocelyn waiting nearby on her motorcycle when Lisa clocked out and left the building.

Stopping dead, she checked, “Uh, Jo? What’re you doing here?”

Jo offered her a smile, her hair in a duo of tight french braids today. “Picking you up, silly. Figured you’d need a ride.” She offered a second helmet to Lisa, waiting.

A little suspicious about the timing of this, Lisa came forward and accepted the helmet with a doubtful, “Okay, and who sent you?”

“Me?” Jo replied, giving the other girl an arched brow. “I get off only a half hour earlier than you. It just makes sense to carpool.”

“Motorpool,” Lisa corrected dryly.

Jo snorted. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much,” she chided.

“Nah -- always been this nuts,” Lisa told her. “It’s just me.” She joined Jo on the motorcycle and strapped the helmet into place as Jo did the same.

“You know the rules,” Jo was saying as they readied to go. “Arms around my waist, lean the way I lean, keep still.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten,” Lisa replied, a little thrill starting in her belly as the vehicle started up. Man, she loved these things. It tantalized her thrill-seeker heart so much.

It was lightly snowing on the way back to the Lair, and it made Lisa strangely happy. It was just a little thing, really; she’d seen snow every winter of her life. But it also reminded her of a big thing: Christmas was approaching.

A sudden thought that she was spending Christmas together with a guy who was not only her first boyfriend, but her first  _ love _ , made everything else seem inconsequential. After all, just because two specific things were severely fucked up in her life didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the things she loved most.

Warm Christmases with family was one of those things.

But following that thought came another: what to get her boyfriend for the big day? She’d have to think on it...

* * *

 

Mikey was visibly aggravated when Lisa reported her brother’s appearance at her work. He  _ knew _ he should’ve stuck around and watched her! But he’d given in to her constant pressure for him to go home and get some sleep, so he’d done so, trusting she’d be fine. And, sure, she was fine, but the day clearly hadn’t passed without complications.

At least the event explained one thing: why Sam wasn’t home when Mikey snuck over there. He’d gone ahead to gather some things he knew Lisa would want, including her laptop and a good chunk of her CD collection on top of raiding her closet and dresser for clothes.

He told Lisa as much, getting nods from her as she digested the information, before asking, “But about Sam -- want me to go, uh...shoo him away?” He was careful with his phrasing; he didn’t want to outright say he’d break Sam’s jaw if he had to. That’d upset her and he knew it. She didn’t even want him fighting with his brothers, there’s no way she’d be cool with him fighting  _ her _ brother.

She considered that for a moment, then shook her head. “Nah, it’s fine. He’s my brother, I’ll deal with it. Eventually,” she added to herself.

“Let him stew first,” Mikey suggested. “For like...fifty-seven years.”

She snorted. “Not a bad idea,” she agreed, giving him a little smile. Then, waving her hands, she declared, “Okay, enough of that! It’s late -- what’s for dinner?”

“Breakfinner,” he corrected.

She rolled her eyes.

“Dunno, it’s Jo’s turn,” he said, turning his gaze towards the kitchen.

Jocelyn was there, Raphael and Leonardo listening as she explained something to them, Mikey and Lisa still in the garage area where he’d come to greet her. After a few moments Jo retreated, finally shedding her riding jacket as she headed to her room. Probably off to change, Mikey figured.

Raph and Leo, meanwhile, got to work setting up things on the stove and retrieving ingredients. Soon it was all organized -- thanks entirely to Leo, and now Mikey understood why Jo had even included him in this task -- and the guys left the kitchen before Jo could come back and send them away.

In the meantime Lisa wandered to the turntable, looking at it in a way Mikey recognized: she was getting ideas. Since it was up on a higher landing but right against the garage area’s railing, he climbed up the little wall from the other side and sat on the metal bars.

“Wanna play?” he invited. She never had before, though he’d noticed her occasionally giving the turntable a look of longing. What better time to give in and play with it than now, when she was going to be here for the foreseeable future?

She grinned, biting her lip, but declined, “Maybe not yet.”

“You sure? We have vinyls from the sixties to today,” he said, intentionally tempting her. In falsetto, he sang, “These boots are made for walkin’, and that’s just what they’ll doooo--”

“Mikey!” she laughed, playfully smacking at his knee.

Acting like she’d just changed the song, he went on, “WAH! What is it good fah?! Absolutely nuttin--”

She tried to yell at him again but was laughing too hard to form the word properly.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he said, “You have to change the song yourself,” then continued with his butchery of Edwin Starr’s iconic song.

“Alright, alright!” she giggled, shooing him away from the turntable. “I got it, geez, fine, I’ll--” she sighed dramatically “--play some stuff. For you. Not me.”

He put his hands together in prayer. “My thanks, [Euterpe](https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/Euterpe).”

She stopped, giving him a confused look. “I’m what?”

He chuckled. “Euterpe. You said you were descended from the Greek muses,” he hinted.

Catching on, she checked, “And that was one of them?”

He sighed. “Honestly, you don’t recognize your own great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother’s name? I mean did you hear how great she was?!”

Lisa, shaking her head, replied, “Where’d you even hear that, anyway?”

“Googled it,” he declared, grinning wide.

“Of course,” she muttered to herself, crouching down to see the boxes and boxes of vinyls they’d collected. And, after selecting several and putting them aside, she began to meticulously check them. He watched as she laid them on the turntables one at a time, listening to snippets of different songs, tapping a finger against her thigh as she went.

Learning the beats.

He couldn’t help the way he stared. He’d seen her play her mixes many times before, but this was the first time he saw her  _ working _ on one. He could almost see the way she was stitching the songs together as she went, enraptured with the music.

At one point, testing the waters, he waved a hand in front of her face. She was so far gone she didn’t even respond to it.

Was it bad that he was weirdly excited by that? She’d become so lost in her task the outside world didn’t exist beyond the table and the records. This was similar to the way Donnie got with his projects, so Mikey was familiar with it. He just found a place to recline and watched as she seemed to get more and more possessed, at one point digging through her backpack and retrieving a notebook, scribbling notes.

Soon she went from listening to songs to seeking out specific ones; it was a good thing Leo was such a stickler for things being in alphabetical order, Mikey thought, watching her now. Not only was she digging up and replacing vinyls, but she was also lip-syncing to some song or another while she did so -- and it was never the song currently playing.

She was still at it -- lining up the vinyls in a particular order now -- when dinner was done an hour later. A part of him was so prideful, watching her, that he didn’t want to disturb her groove; the rest was pointing out that she  _ did _ need to eat something.

He stepped into her space, pulling her chin up to focus on him. “Wakey wakey,” he teased.

She blinked in surprise, clearly coming out of a deep focus. Then, embarrassed, she started blushing, apologizing, “Oh, god -- sorry! I totally blanked out!” She winced; he grinned.

“What’re you talking about? That was totally cool!” he told her. She looked startled, so he went on, “You have any idea how cool you are, baby girl? Look -- it’s been, like, an hour, and look at all this you got done already.”

When he gestured the table and all the records she’d lined up -- a good nine of them so far -- she winced again, but this time she was also smiling.

“So,” he prompted, “you gonna play for us after dinner?”  _ Say yes, _ he thought, incredibly eager to hear what she’d crafted.

She bit her lip, nodding, and agreed, “Sure.”

He gave her a kiss in thanks; she giggled, recoiling, her gaze skittering around to where the kitchen currently held everyone else.

D’aww, so shy, he thought. 

He was going to  _ love _ having her here every single day. In fact, he was hoping she would never leave -- she could move in, just like Jo did, and was it wrong of him to want that more than he’d ever wanted anything?

He wasn’t sure what she’d say and couldn’t guess what she was thinking right then, but he also couldn’t think of a reason for her to say “no”. Still, it was probably a good idea to let it lie for at least a week first -- to not spring the “let’s move in together!” card the day after she’d had a world-wrecking fight with  _ two _ of her closest relations.

So he zipped his lips on the issue and, instead, just led her to the kitchen for some dinner. 


	37. Chapter 37

**Rating:** XXX (swearing/explicit sexual content)

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

For a while things seemed to be going well, all things considered. Sam was banned from Gil’s store with the warning that if he kept coming around it’d be counted as harassment and he’d have a restraining order put in place. Lisa shared what she knew of her brother’s schedule with Mikey, letting him handle making nightly visits to gather more of her things.

He checked on Sam a few times while he was there, too, wondering how the human was holding up. He found Sam passed out on the couch twice, the TV still on and the scent of alcohol around him. Once Mikey found him in Lisa’s room, asleep propped against her bed, her stuffed unicorn in one hand.

_ Regret. _ Lisa said that unicorn had been a gift from Sam years prior, which told Mikey that Sam was wrought with guilt.

Good.

Lisa, in the meantime, was adjusting relatively well, though Mikey could see her stresses slowly piling up. He tried to help her through that, distracting her with laughter and having deep talks about how she was feeling. The answer was usually phrased differently, but it always came back to,  _ Better, but not good. _

Dang it.

At one point he heard her take a call from some club, and he cheered up _ immediately _ . She loved making mixes; if this was a request, it’d help her mood so much! Yet, to his surprise, she turned it down.

Concerned, he asked her why. Her reply? “I can’t concentrate down here so well. It’d just be bad.”

He tried pointing out the mix she made a week prior using the turntables, but that didn’t help at all. She agreed it’d been fun for her, but ultimately she thought it’d been a really bad mix -- one of her worst. Mikey didn’t think so...but it was clear he wasn’t going to change her mind about that.

Worse, he knew she kept exchanging texts with Sam, but she’d stopped telling him what was going on in those texts. He couldn’t figure if that meant it was all more of the same -- nothing to report -- or things had gotten significantly worse. And as much as he wanted to just borrow her phone and check, he didn’t want to be that underhanded with her. If she needed him, she’d say so; he told himself this over and over as days slipped by.

One thing that  _ did _ seem to help was when she got in contact with Lexa again. He found her often talking to or texting Lexa, and those tended to end with a small loss of tension in Lisa. Conversing with Jo had a similar effect, too, though he could see the chats with Jo weren’t half as potent.

Still, as time passed, he could see Lisa’s spirits slowly dropping, and it made him sad. Underground life clearly didn’t agree with her, and he wasn’t sure he could make it any better. Distraught, he decided to talk with his brothers while they were out patrolling one night.

“Guys?” he began, head down as he restlessly toyed with one of his bracelets. He heard his brothers halt; knowing they were listening, he ventured, “I don’t...know what to do about Lisa.”

His brothers weren’t stupid. He knew they’d noticed, too. Lisa a month ago versus Lisa now -- the differences were clear. She wasn’t as happy, didn’t smile as much, stayed holed up in his room more. It’d be ridiculous to think his family hadn’t picked up on that by now.

His brothers rounded on him, Raph offering a comforting shell-pat.

Leo started, “You never did tell us what the big issue was. Can you tell us now?”

Mikey hesitated then, wondering if it would be okay. Lisa would say ‘no’, he knew that -- but they both needed help by now and he couldn’t see any other way to get it. So -- fighting a feeling of guilt -- he explained. The critical fight, Sam’s confession, and how Sam had been texting her this entire time and how Lisa wasn’t sharing the texts with Mikey anymore.

By the time he’d finished, he could see alarm bells going off in each of his brother’s minds. Raph was fuming -- which was both surprising and expected to Mikey. After all, the hot-headed brother tended to blow pretty easily, and this update was particularly shocking...but Mikey hadn’t expected Raph to care so much about Lisa. At least not yet -- she rarely spoke to him, still clearly uncomfortable by just how intimidating he was. Evidently that didn’t mean Raph didn’t care about  _ her _ .

To him, Mikey quickly said, “Don’t do anything.”

Raph threw up his arms. “Don’t  _ do _ anything?!” he blurted, frustrated. “Ya just told us that Lisa’s life got fucked cause of her brother--”

“Exactly -- her brother,” Mikey pointed out. Raph huffed; Mikey went on, “If anyone hurts Sam for all this it’ll just make her more upset. She still loves him,” Mikey told his brothers, “she just can’t be around him anymore.”

Leo gave a groan, rubbing at his neck. Donnie -- the one Mikey was worried would speak up with ‘interesting facts’ on the subject -- wisely remained silent, looking uncomfortable. And Raph paced back and forth a few times, quietly contemplating the sky. No one seemed to know what to say.

Then Leo asked, “Have  _ you _ talked to Sam about any of this?”

Mikey shook his head. “Saw him a few times, but no. That’d just end up in a fight and I don’t wanna put Lisa through that.”

_ She hates when I fight, _ he thought, spirits dropping. Sparring and showing off was one thing -- she thought that was cool as hell -- but getting into an actual, wanna-knock-you-out fight? She’d be  _ so _ disappointed and upset by that.

Especially if the fight included Sam.

Sighing, Leo began, “What if  _ I _ talk to him? Try and work this out?”

Mikey wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Leo was good at talking -- and really, really bad at emotions. This whole thing was an emotional minefield; one wrong step and BOOM! Mikey knew the eldest could talk Sam down, but whether or not it could be done without causing an explosion was another matter entirely.

And this wasn’t even taking into account that Sam knew nothing about Mikey’s brothers. That was bound to be a shock by itself. Was it really a good idea to set Leo on Sam, especially considering Mikey wouldn’t be there to bridge the gap between mind and heart, so to speak.

Then again...

As a new thought came to the fore, Mikey glanced between his brothers, the cloud around him lifting just a little. They were strongest when together, weren’t they? Why bother sending out just one of them to deal with an issue when they were all invested in it?

“We could all go,” he suggested.

Everyone shared looks of the same revelation, and Mikey could see his brothers had agreed without a single word needing to be spoken.

* * *

 

Sam wasn’t home when the guys checked, so they spread out to look for him. Donnie found him at his workplace, working late. And while the others made their way over, Donnie kept an eye on him, running scans and the like to decipher the human’s mind state.

The conclusion: he was in emotional pain, so he was working to bury it.

By the time Mikey got there Sam had moved from a table saw to a sanding machine. He was smoothing out the splinters and the like from a series of two-foot wood beams, entirely focused on his task -- the sound easily hiding anyone’s footsteps, let alone that of four ninjas.

For safety’s sake Donnie snuck around to the machine’s power cord and pulled it, and while Sam confusedly started checking the wiring Mikey got his attention.

“Sup, bro?”

Sam jolted as he spun around, and Mikey saw him go from fear to anger and back to fear when he spotted  _ four _ instead of  _ one _ .

Raph gave him a superior-and-cruel smirk; Sam swallowed.

“W-what do you want?” he demanded, a desperate bravado dripping from his words. “I haven’t done anything -- just working.”

Mikey could tell immediately that Sam was hurting  _ bad _ inside. That was good; it gave them a starting point.

Aloud, he said, “I know. Been watching you, just in case.”

Sam straightened his shoulders -- hiding an all-too-obvious fear.

Then Leo stepped in, saying, “Samuel Samson. My name is Leonardo. This is Donatello and Raphael. We’re Mikey’s brothers. And  _ we’re _ here because we care about Lisa, too.”

A muscle jumped in Sam’s jaw, visibly fighting off a flight response. “Yeah? Me, too,” he threw back, borderline aggressive -- even as he refused to move even an inch closer. Looking right at Mikey, he demanded, “You treating her well in whatever hole you shoved her into?”

“Compared to what?” Mikey replied, ignoring the burn. “Compared to you -- her brother -- fantasizing about her from the next room over?”

Sam cringed, looking away. That’d been a stab in the dark for Mikey, merely guessing, but the way Sam reacted told him that his guess had been accurate. At once, he felt an uncomfortable heat burning inside him,  _ demanding _ he take out this blossoming anger on Sam’s face.

But an image of Lisa’s horrified expression presented itself, then -- how she would undoubtedly react if she heard he’d pummeled her brother. It kept him rooted in place, giving him a second point of focus.

“Yeah,” he answered through gritted teeth, “I’m treating her well in my fucking hole.”

“But that’s irrelevant,” Donnie cut in quickly, interrupting before any mines triggered. “We’re here because Lisa’s very upset, and we want to work out a solution. Are you amenable?” he asked.

It took Sam a second to respond, and when he did, he was confused. “You mean...will I cooperate?” When he received a nod, he visibly bit back a comment before continuing, “With Lisa? Hell, yeah. Been trying. With you guys, though?”

His face showed how the idea disgusted him, and Mikey reflexively caught Raph before his brother could charge, chanting, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Chill!”

Sam edged a single step away from Raph, a look of terror plastered on his face.

“Word of advice,” Leo said, getting the boy’s attention, “don’t piss off Raph. Even unintentionally. Now -- Raph, rein in it. We’re here to talk, not punch.”

What Sam didn’t know: Raph’s near-charge had been real, but Leo’s comment wasn’t. It was an act, designed to keep people (such as Sam) polite. And it worked like a charm; Sam pushed himself against the table behind him, his whole body tense.

Raphael jutted his chin at the human, a wordless challenge.

Sam flinched.

A great start, Mikey thought, amused. But he pushed that down to go on, “Listen, dude -- Lisa’s really down from all this. And it’s getting worse. I know you’re not holding up so well, either. So just cooperate. Let’s work this out.”

“Yeah?” Sam scoffed. “What do you suggest? God knows Lisa’s rejected everything  _ I _ suggested.”

“Can you blame her?” Raph growled then. “Imagine this from  _ her _ shoes--”

Sam interrupted, “You think I haven’t?! I’ve been tearing out my hair trying to fix this--”

“You’ve been making it worse!” Mikey snapped; Sam flinched. “Every time you text her she gets pissed all over again--”

“I’m  _ trying!” _ Sam yelled.

“You’re  _ failing!” _ Mikey shouted.

“Enough!” Leo snapped over both of them. Donnie was shaking his head, looking exhausted; Raph was standing tall right beside Mikey, nostrils flaring as his anger rose in response to Mikey’s.

Once everyone had begrudgingly calmed down, Leo went on, “No more arguments. We’re here for solutions, not to cast blame.”

_ We all know who’s to blame anyway, _ Mikey thought, glowering at Sam.

Sam was glowering right back, likely thinking the same thing about Mikey.

“Mikey,” Leo prompted then, “what does Lisa want now?”

It was hard to say for sure -- largely because she doesn’t seem to know, herself. His best guess? “To forget, I think. To go back to how things were -- which is impossible,” he added with irritation towards Sam.

The human’s lip curled in distaste.

“Sam,” Leo said, attention switching, “what do  _ you _ want?”

“Aside from the obvious,” Raph added in a rough grunt.

“Fuck yourself,” Sam snapped his way.

Leo cut in before  _ that _ could blow up next, firmly saying, “Stay focused. No more jabs,” he told Raph and Mikey.

_ Leo the mediator, _ Mikey thought, annoyed.

“Sam?” Leo prompted.

Sam looked like the last thing he wanted was to cooperate with them, but all the same he answered, “I want my sister back.”

_ Maybe you shouldn’t have fucked everything, then, _ Mikey thought, biting his tongue only because it would only make things worse. Aloud, he replied, “That’s not happening. No matter how much you both want it,” he added quickly, before he could be interrupted, “that relationship is dead now. Your best bet is to make a new one.”  _ If Lisa even wants that anymore.... _

Sam exhaled harshly, aggravated. “Fine -- and how do I do that? You got any ideas, mutant?”

Mikey bristled; Leo snapped, “I said no more jabs! You want our help, start by being nice.”

“I never said I wanted your help,” Sam hinted.

“This is going nowhere,” Mikey told his eldest brother. “It was a stupid idea to think  _ he’d _ help at all.”

“That finally hit you?” Sam snapped. “This whole thing is  _ your _ fucking fault--”

Mikey figured he’d say that.

Leo interrupted, “You don’t follow orders so well, do you? I said no casting blame and no jabs. We’re done here,” he told his brothers. “Good luck trying to work this out without us.”

Mikey knew that was a gamble on Leo’s part -- basically giving Sam a chance to apologize and reorder his priorities. But as the guys left, Sam remained silent, merely glaring at them. Mikey had known it would end this way; now that he’d had a talk with the boy, it was clear that Sam was too prideful and spiteful to allow anyone to help him -- or to offer help to anyone else.

Especially when it came to Lisa.

As they left, Leo asked, “Was that any help?”

Mikey shook his head. “Not the right kind. Lisa’s gonna be pissed when she finds out I talked to Sam,” he informed them.

“Thought she’d be happy,” Raph said, confused. “You tried to fix it -- with Sam. She wouldn’t appreciate that?”

“She would’ve, sure, a couple weeks ago,” Mikey replied. “Lately she’s been too...frustrated and irritated.” He sighed. He missed the old Lisa, the one who would beg him not to get into a fight cause she didn’t want to see him hurt, then look so relieved when he’d agree; the one who was always so elated to see him she’d break into a grin right away; the one was happy and peaceful whenever she was with him, nothing stressing her or holding her down.

His best bet, now, was to help her forge new relationships, given there was no recovering the lost one.

* * *

 

Saying Lisa was annoyed with the way her life had turned would be putting it mildly. She’d moved into the freaking  _ sewers _ , lost her precious relationship with her brother, was contending with her own mother (who still didn’t know what the fight was about but now knew it was Lisa who was unwilling to make up), and more recently she got into  _ another _ fight with Lexa.

They’d been going just fine for about a week, mostly discussing their pasts and when and how Lisa had fucked up -- and then today happened. Lexa had, more or less, said Lisa had been a shit friend “till recently”, and Lisa -- pissed off -- replied that Lexa didn’t have to put it so bluntly like that.

It’d seemed like a reasonable thing to say, but Lexa had responded with ire, and so Lisa had done the same. It devolved from there into the two of them pointing out the ways the other had been a shitty friend, and each text made Lisa hurt worse. Maybe she was just taking out her frustrations on Lexa, but either way she couldn’t help biting back.

Now -- hours later -- she couldn’t sleep, she was so irritated. She just kept tossing and turning, wondering when her boyfriend was getting back and if she really wanted to see him right now.

Then she received another text, and -- thinking it was Lexa -- annoyedly muttered, “What’s that bitch want now?” as she checked it.

It wasn’t Lexa, though -- it was Sam. He was informing her that Mikey  _ and his brothers _ had stopped by Sam’s workplace.

She put the phone aside, ignoring the whole slew of texts she was getting from her brother. Sighing, she sat up, aggravated for a whole additional reason, now. Granted, she wasn’t surprised -- if anything, she was shocked it’d taken Mikey so long to have that confrontation. She’d known it would happen eventually.

At least Sam  _ could  _ text her; that meant his fingers still functioned. There hadn’t been a fight, then. She was  _ relatively _ happy about that. After all, with time came clarity, and she was getting to the point where she didn’t understand why she’d moved out to begin with.

Nothing had changed, right? Sam had been in -- er, whatever -- for years, apparently, and she’d never known. He’d been good, just being a brother and nothing more. She’d never had so much as an inkling about the truth. Hell, he’d  _ dated _ others in that time!

Did she really have to upend her entire life for something so...inconsequential?

That was the trouble, though: “have to”. Those key words. Maybe she didn’t  _ have _ to react the way she had, but it sure felt good. Somewhere aside from the constant pain of losing her brother was a satisfaction in knowing she was making him pay. She  _ wanted _ to make him suffer -- and she knew she should feel ashamed of that, but she didn’t.

She did, however, feel needy.

Mikey’s affectionate nature had spoiled the hell out of her, and now she was addicted to the comfort he offered. With this whole deal with Sam and Lexa, it’d gotten worse, too. She wasn’t being the best girlfriend -- she knew Mikey was getting depressed with her negative attitude day in and day out, and she  _ did _ feel bad about that -- but she was also so happy to have him around.

She was also just...a little less enthusiastic after spending so long living underground. The smell down here was vomit-inducing in places, after all, and while the Lair itself had fantastic ventilation, she still had to travel to various exits through non-ventilated tunnels.

It hadn’t been so bad when she only visited Mikey twice a week, but after living here for two weeks straight? It was  _ much _ more difficult to handle.

She had to get the hell out of here, get back to the surface -- sooner rather than later. How Jo dealt with life down here, she’d never know.

Lisa was still sitting up, chewing on a nail and pondering her options, when the guys got back. She didn’t hear them roaming about, but soon the curtain was brushed aside and Mikey came through.

He paused when he saw her. Then, with a gentle smile, he chided, “What’re you doing still up? You have work in the morning...”

“Can’t sleep,” she answered. And, since he was looking hesitant to come closer, she lifted a hand towards him. An invitation.

He visibly relaxed (she almost flinched from guilt), moving to sit down so he could begin stripping. As he undressed, taking off everything but his shorts, he checked, “Got any news for me, baby girl?”

She could hear the stiffness in his voice and it made her wince. Had she been so cold and curt with him, so much so that he was being tentative just in talking with her?

“Sam texted me, yeah,” she replied, figuring that’s what he was worried about. He stilled, confirming her guess; she knee-walked over to drape herself over his shell, arms linking around his neck, saying, “Don’t worry about it. That buttface had it coming, anyway.”

Mikey slowly relaxed, chuckling softly. He gripped her arms, giving her a look of -- longing? “I know -- didn’t think you’d agree, though.” More hesitant, he ventured, “So you’re...not mad at me?”

She shook her head. “I mean, for a second I was, but it’s whatever.” Then, pausing to collect her thoughts, she went on more quietly, “Mikey? Um...I’m sorry...”

He twisted to see her more clearly, and she backed off to let him. Cupping her cheek, stroking with his thumb, he asked, “Sorry? For what? You’re not doing anything wrong.”

She loved it when he said that -- but, in this case, she felt it was inaccurate. “Yeah, I am. I’ve been...well, a crappy girlfriend. And I’m sorry. I’ve just been, like...floating along on your goodwill and giving nothing back. You’re too sweet.” Wincing, she murmured, “You should’ve kicked me out by now.”

At once, Mikey went from confused and sorrowful to fierce. He seized her face in both hands, blue eyes hard, and replied firmly, “Never. You’re not taking advantage of me, Lisa -- I’m giving you what you need. Because I love you,” he added more gently, tilting his head.

She felt her eyes water, taking a deep breath to keep her emotions steady. Reaching up, she pet his neck, saying softly, “I love you too, honeybee...but you really should put down some rules. Y’know, keep me from taking too much and whatever.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then smirked. “Okay, rule one: you  _ always _ gimme a kiss when I get back. Or you get back. Both.”

She smiled, loving that attitude of his. “Do you one better,” she offered, letting her hands slip down to his waistband to tug him closer.

He followed eagerly, head dipping to catch her mouth as his arms banded around her. And, she admitted, she’d missed this; since the very first orgasm he’d given her she’d been hungry for more, and it’d only grown worse since their one-night vacay in that penthouse.

She’d just been too aggravated at life to really respond to those needs thanks to the deal with Sam. Now, though...now the floodgates opened.

Mikey’s tongue delighted her, twisting and pulling at her own, the sensations traveling  _ well _ beyond her mouth. She gave moans of agreement, encouraging him, as they divested their clothes, and when that was done, he eased her back on the bed.

“Missed you,” he murmured between kisses as he started down her neck.

_ Me, too, _ she thought, biting her lip and wriggling as his actions got her engines revving. A part of her remained nervous -- this was only the second time they were going this far, after all -- but with her skyrocketing clinginess she was more than ready to commit.

She just... _ needed  _ this. Bad.

Unsurprisingly, he got distracted the moment he got his hands and mouth on her breasts, all but losing himself in them. She wasn’t the least bit bothered by this, though; his attentions had her clamping both hands over her mouth to keep her yelps and keens from escaping. The pleasure seemed to flood her down to her fingernails, making her writhe and scratch for more.

As he worked he showed just how well he’d learned her, slowly driving her crazy. He knew exactly how much and what kind of attention to give each breast, where her sweet spots where, and how to make her shudder from sensation overload. It successfully had her eyes rolling back as she gave herself over to the ecstasy building within her, the pleasure alternatively making her choke on her own moans and struggle to keep them quiet.

It took an incredible amount of effort (and a good half hour -- if she had any sense of time, which, let’s be honest, she did not) before she managed to gasp out, “Mikey -- stop! Stop teasing...I need more...”

Her breasts were all but throbbing from the thorough attention he’d given, and she absolutely reveled in it, but damn it, she was  _ soaking _ wet. She needed relief before she imploded. Her breasts alone weren’t going to get her there, though she was more than a little thankful for his efforts towards that end.

Mikey was clearly loathe to back off from her generous mounds, giving an audible whine as he lifted his head. “Teasing?” he echoed, his tone dripping with fake offense. “You’re the tease, lookin’ so edible all the time,” he threw back, smirking. 

Aaannnd there went her face, lighting on fire. She covered her face with both hands, a pathetic little squeak escaping her. She made a series of muffled mutters but not even she knew what she was saying at this point -- and in another second it no longer mattered.

He moved, bed sloshing as he shuffled away, finally bringing his mouth between her thighs. His tongue lazily stroked her at first, ricochets of pleasure racing through her with every touch, parting her folds and circling her clit. He moaned all the while, and she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not; either way it sent the most thrilling vibrations through her.

Then he dropped just a fraction, bringing his mouth right to her entrance, and she felt his tongue slip inside. He delighted her with the appendage, reminding her (as if she could’ve forgotten) of one of his most innately talented features. It felt like it’d been ages since the last time they’d fooled around, and from the way he devoured her, he’d been feeling it, too.

She  _ really _ needed to repay him for all this generosity of his someday. She knew he was overjoyed to give so much, but she knew he was aching to take, too.

She just couldn’t make any plans right now, with his hands petting her from knees to tits and his tongue steadily destroying her from the inside out.

Lisa was close -- damn close -- when she noticed rhythmic motions on his part and woozily realized his need was driving him to pump against the empty sheets. Feeling both empathic and sympathetic, a wash of neediness and charity, she gasped out, “Mikey, stop -- get up here...”

He’d been so deep in his task that her voice seemed to startle him; he jerked, pulling himself out of a haze, and glanced up at her. She got the visual treat of her life as he withdrew, catching the way his extra-long tongue slowly drew back from her confines.

_ Holy shit, that’s not fair. _

He was breathless as he replied, “What?” even as he obeyed, coming to crawl over her. Her hands lifted of their own accord to welcome him, leaning up to go in for a kiss.

With a groan, he followed, giving her another of his knee-slaying kisses. Their bodies shifted as they kissed, wordlessly aligning for the next act -- and, god, she made the most embarrassing whine as their movements brought their sexes together, slick cock slipping against gushing, wet pussy.

Not for the first time, she felt ridiculous for having taken so long to get this far with him. Sex was  _ amazing _ .

Utterly seduced, driven by heart-pounding need, she grasped his thick member, wriggling her hips until she had it right. Then, finally, he pressed down, and a sharp moan escaping her as he breached her; he gave a muffled groan against her neck, a shiver racing through him.

_ Why was the  _ shiver  _ the sexiest part of all this? _ she wondered, though to be honest, she didn’t care about the answer. Her hands settled on his hips, tugging, desperate for him to give her the same pleasure he’d given before. The pause to get this far had unwound her a bit, after all; she’d need some work to get back up there.

She knew he was happy to help her out with that, though.

He was surprisingly resistant at first, though, going slow and careful whether she liked it or not (she did). His motions were shallow at first, obviously making sure she could take him before going to town on her, and the smart part of her brain appreciated that. He was  _ really _ thick, after all, and she  _ was _ feeling the strain of taking him.

She was just also really impatient to climax, unwilling to wait so long. His thrusts  _ were _ working, yeah -- but not nearly fast enough for her liking.

“Faster -- Mikey, I need more,” she breathed, thrusting herself against him in a desperate bid to just take what she wanted. The first took him by surprise, forcing more of him inside than he’d given so far, and she hissed in mixed pleasure and pain; he cut off a surprised yelp halfway through, shuddering hard against her.

Then he pinned her down, catching her wrists and holding them at the pillow and bracing his knees so far apart she couldn’t find purchase with her feet around them. The move startled her; he’d never pulled such a -- a  _ dominating _ move before, and it had her emotions going haywire with confused impulses.

A part of her was thrilled, another part afraid, torn between whether or not she liked this change in him. Not to mention that look of warning on his face -- it had her breath catching in her throat. Holy damn, she’d pushed the wrong buttons just now, hadn’t she?

To her surprise, though, he leaned in and gave her one of his signature sweet kisses, drawing a soft hum out of her. Then he said, full of a gentleness above and beyond any he’d shown before, “I know you need me...it’s okay, baby girl. Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Well, how could she argue with that? She did as bade, relaxing, and gave an affirming nod.  _ Do as you do, _ she thought, giving an encouraging wriggle and smile.

Surrendering.

Mikey was even better than his promise had implied. Over the next  _ hour _ , he pleased her, displaying through action that he’d definitely learned a lot since the penthouse. Considering that night had left her more jelly than woman, that was saying something.

He was still slow at first, making absolutely sure she was fully ready for him before really getting into it. Then -- oh,  _ then _ he got going, rutting on her like a rabbit. It was so good it took everything in her to try and keep quiet, holding both hands over her mouth to muffle the cries he wrung from her and then biting at him when that proved insufficient.

His deep shudders told her that he was  _ really _ liking the biting thing.

But he slowed back to a crawl just before she came, and she whimpered from the loss. By then she’d been a shaking, gasping mess, so close she could almost taste it...and he just strung her along.

He kicked back up again only after a significant amount of begging on her part, both with words and actions. For the second time he drove her wild with his motions, until she was at the brink of a body-shattering orgasm -- and then he slowed back to the most infuriatingly gentle thrusts, but by then there was no stopping it.

She was coming whether he fucked her there or not.

And he damn well gave her more when she got there, too, giving quick, sharp thrusts to egg her on as she broke into pieces. She had no idea if he’d planned this or not, but either way it had her quaking from the pleasure, heart pounding and so hot she couldn’t feel the cold of the waterbed anymore.

That orgasm hit her so hard she had no idea if he’d cum or not. She just relaxed into the bed, gasping for air, a sudden draft on her neck and breasts her only indication that she’d been sweating.

“Holy...jeez,” she said on a withering sigh, hardly able to move after that.

And Mikey, voice thick with a deep churr, nuzzled against her cheek, replied, “Holy  _ turtle _ .”

A weak chuckle was her only response.


	38. Chapter 38

**Rating:** PG (swearing)

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

_I’ll take care of you._

Those words lulled Lisa to sleep, more comforting than anything else she’d ever been told. It successfully calmed all her fears and stresses, just knowing she could sit back and let Mikey handle all the difficult things she was dealing with. And, after sleeping on it, she woke with more focus than usual, suddenly certain of how to proceed from here.

Step one: tell Sam off.

She grabbed her phone, finding she’d slept through her alarm -- or, more likely, Mikey had beat her to it and silenced it, and she expected he’d also called Gil ahead of time to let him know she would be late today -- and around thirty texts from Sam built up over the night.

She ignored them entirely (catching snippets here and there as she scrolled by; one was Sam chiding her for “siccing” her mutant and his brothers on him, which she doubly ignored) and gave a very simple reply instead.

[im spending christmas wiht mikey and im not talking to u until after]

[so think hard about what u wanna say]

Mikey was _out_ when she woke up, and she caught him muttering something like ‘smelly cheese’ when she crawled over him to get out of bed. _Cutie,_ she thought, giving him a kiss on the cheek before heading to the shower to begin her day.

It was past ten when she was finally ready to go, and now that she knew the routes a bit better, she managed to get to work pretty quick. She even conveniently had a grate she could slip through so she didn’t have to deal with any manhole covers.

Work passed by in a haze, her mind more occupied by thoughts of Christmas and presents than anything else. And, again, after work she found Jocelyn waiting for her near the shop. They exchanged greetings -- and then Lisa asked a very pointed question.

“What should I get Mikey for Christmas?”

Jo was visibly surprised by the question. “Uh, dunno. You know him better than anyone. What do you think you should get him?”

Lisa shrugged. “I was thinking about it all day, and like, there’s not really that much? I mean my first thought was games, but Donnie can apparently make discs and cartridges and -- and freaking arcades, y’know? And then I was thinking something more like skateboards, but he has like sixty of those by now. I dunno, it feels like whatever I could buy him he could get by himself and whatever. So what can I do?”

By now Jo was tilting her head, amused. “Hmm, I don’t know, what _can_ you do?” she echoed in a tone that said _the answer is staring you in the face_ . “How about -- just a stab in the dark, here -- something _only_ you can do?”

That had Lisa blushing. Was Jo seriously suggesting sex?! Sure, she fully expected _something_ sexual to happen during the big day -- it’d be romantic as hell, and the idea kind of killed her -- but that wasn’t a _present_. That was...an activity.

Jo seemed to catch on and laughed. “Head out of the gutter, Lisa! I mean, hell, it’s nice and cozy there, but we’re talking Christmas here, not Valentine’s. So give it a thought. What’re some things that only you can do? Some things Mikey says a lot when you talk? What does he like best about you?”

All excellent points, Lisa thought, relaxing now that her head had forcibly been straightened. She was also embarrassed that her mind had gone right to sex, but refocusing helped get over that. And, as she stood there, pondering it, Jo started up the motorcycle, the sound startling Lisa out of her reverie.

“Step one, we go home,” Jo prompted, “unless you have somewhere you want to go. Then you can think about this in length.” Lowering her voice, she hinted, “It’s _really_ cold out here.”

It was -- though Lisa’s heated cheeks were helping with that, now that she’d embarrassed herself twice in under a minute. Nodding, she climbed onto the vehicle, accepted her helmet, and the pair drove back to the Lair.

Mikey was up by then and elated as he came to greet Lisa, and she had the instant sense that he hadn’t been this visibly pleased in over a week. The knowledge piled some shame on her, knowing she was the thing that’d been holding him down, but she also made a promise to him then: _I won’t be the thing that makes you sad ever again._

She spent the rest of the day trying to slyly question Mikey, asking what he liked about her and what his favorite things are and so on. His answers weren’t very helpful, though; most of his favorites were things she already knew (including herself, which he repeated close to a dozen times), and the things he liked about her were mostly written on his walls.

Still, she was determined to figure this out, and on the bright side, Mikey looked more than a little ecstatic just to have her grilling him about his favorite things. So he was happy, she was happy, dinner was great, and she went to sleep that night with a lot more to think about and a burning determination to wrangle an answer out of her driving questions.

It was on day three of this sequence that she finally hit gold.

* * *

 Lisa, just laying askew on Mikey’s bed while he messed around on his skateboard -- showing off again; she loved that side of him, to be honest -- was idly chatting with him. Her questions were getting more pointed with time, and she was certain he’d caught on to her ultimate plan by now, but she was running out of subjects.

Then, in a desperate bid to examine her conundrum from a new perspective, she asked about his previous crushes and he tripped, landing on his shell with a surprised yelp.

She sat up, concerned. “You okay, honeybee?” she asked.

He laughed nervously as he got back up, dusting himself off. Looking sheepish, he checked, “You wanna know about...my crushes?”

She nodded. “I’m curious. Like, what was it you liked about them?” She didn’t know _who_ he’d crushed on, just that he’d had a few and it embarrassed him now.

Uncomfortable, he ventured, “Uh, w-well, I guess...” He trailed off, muttering too low for her to catch.

Chuckling, she swung her legs off the bed to sit upright, saying, “You’re not in trouble, Mikey. I’m just curious, honest.”

He didn’t calm much, but he _did_ come to sit beside her, taking her hand between his. Staring down at their clasped hands, lightly stroking her fingers, he said, “Why you wanna know about that, anyway? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I told you, twice now,” she replied with a chuckle, leaning down to see his face. “Why d’you look so ashamed? It’s not _that_ bad, is it?”

Shaking his head, he said, “Nah, I just... It’s old news,” he told her. “I mean, I don’t ask about _your_ crushes.”

“And if you did, I’d tell you,” she pointed out. When he looked no more relaxed, still reluctant, she started rubbing his arm. “I just wanna know more about you. That’s not so bad, is it?”

He inclined his head, then sighed. “Okay, but...whatchu wanna know?”

“What’d you like about ‘em?” she pressed, wondering how alike she’d find herself to those crushes of his. She didn’t particularly care who they’d been, just _why_ they’d been, if that made any sense.

Evidently he didn’t like thinking about that, because he looked away. “...Mostly, I liked ‘em cause they didn’t scream when they saw me,” he confessed.

And her heart ached, making her wince. “Oh, Mikey,” she cooed, scooting closer so she could fit her arms around him. He leaned over with the smallest prodding from her, looping an arm around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder.

Then, almost silent, he whispered, “...It was Jo.”

That gave Lisa pause, unsure she’d heard him correct. “...Jo?” she checked. “Like, _Jocelyn_ , Jo?”

He gave a tiny nod. A little louder, he said, “I crushed on her pretty hard...cause...” Wincing, he forced out the rest in a rush, “Cause she danced with me and laughed at my jokes and she was so pretty and so much fun and she was never mean and whatever and I just...” He trailed off, took a shaky breath.

Then, with visible effort, he sat up from her and shook off the negativity he was feeling. He gave Lisa a bright -- if forced -- smile, saying, “But that was just a crush. She wasn’t for me. _You_ are,” he told her firmly.

Lisa smiled back, though now doubts had taken root in her mind. Seeming to notice, he pulled her in and kissed her, a swift, firm press. He kept hold of her hand when he drew back, his baby blues clear and steady.

She believed him, believed _in_ him. Mikey was the single most honest, genuine being in the world -- more so than _she_ was by leaps and bounds.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? If he was so genuine and he’d liked Jo, then there were things about the blonde that he’d always like. While their day picked up again, playing video games and horsing around, Lisa’s mind kept returning to what he’d said.

In particular, a few words stood out: _she was so pretty_.

Lisa wasn’t pretty. She knew this. Every time Mikey complimented her, he was telling her how cute or cool (or -- _gulp_ \-- sexy) she was. What he’d liked about Jocelyn was what he’d never get from Lisa, and she couldn’t help feeling inadequate about it.

Comparing herself to Jo, Lisa found herself lacking. Jo was flirty, sexy, tall; she was grace incarnate. She was feisty and fiery, her backbone forged from pure steel. She was clever and powerful and breathtakingly beautiful. Her confidence was practically a waterfall and so powerful everyone else couldn’t help but be held in awe whenever she was around.

Lisa was...a little squirt. She was energetic and liked to think she was funny, but Jocelyn was clearly the superior woman. It was no wonder Mikey had crushed on her -- anyone would. Lisa had kind of crushed on her when they met, too, in a platonic way.

When Jo turned on the confidence and started to strut, boys stopped _dead_ to stare at her. Her power was insurmountable. Lisa, by turns, was about as far from confident and powerful as she could be. She still blushed when anyone mentioned sex, for god’s sake, and Jo made jokes about it all the damn time.

Which meant...if Lisa really wanted to earn Mikey and keep his eyes on her -- which she did! -- then...

...she needed to be more like Jo.

But how was she supposed to do that? Take lessons? _Hah_ , funny, Lisa...

Still, the idea had infected her mind, and the more she thought about it, the more it sounded like a good starting point. Jo could teach her how to hold herself with confidence, how to rally when she faced opposition instead of crumbling, how to not flinch all the damn time, and how...

...how to keep her boyfriend’s gaze on _her_ and no one else.

Was it bad that she was being so damn possessive with him...?

She got her first chance when she heard Jocelyn’s voice echoing up to them, all but promising aid. Lisa jumped right to her feet, excusing herself with a rushed, “Oh, hang on, I need to talk to Jo for a few minutes!”

Arms wide, Mikey shot out a series of protesting syllables, ending with a snapped, “Lisa!”

“Be right back!” she promised as she stepped out of the room and hurried down to the ground floor. “Jo!” she called.

Jocelyn was in Raphael’s arms then. He was clearly carrying her somewhere, but when Lisa got their attention he pivoted to see her.

Lisa stopped dead, suddenly realizing she was interrupting something.

“Lisa?” Jo asked. She gave a little push; Raph put her on her feet.

Hurrying over, Lisa clamped the other woman’s arms in her hands and blurted, “I need to talk to you!”

“Okay?” Jo replied, amused. Looking to Raph, she said, “Go on without me, I’ll catch up.”

The big grouch pouted. “You promised we’d hang together today.”

“And we will,” she told him with a laugh. “Just...in a few minutes.” She nudged him, then swatted his rear ( _clap!_ ), making the _much_ bigger man jolt and scowl. “Go on,” she directed.

He pointed at her. “Gettin’ you back for that,” he told her.

She winked. “Make it good, baby,” she teased.

The whole interaction made Lisa awkward as hell, but Raphael left with a pleased smirk and Jo looked satisfied.

Out of curiosity, Lisa ventured, “How’s he...gonna pay you back?”

Giving her an apologetic smile, Jo replied, “Oh, hun, I don’t think you wanna hear that.”

There it was, again: Jocelyn’s confidence and power. Lisa felt like crumbling, standing next to this clearly superior woman.

But she soldiered on, lowering her voice and leaning in with a hard look. Jo, catching on, leaned in too as Lisa whispered, “This is sensitive and private, so can we go somewhere more...isolated?”

Sharp nod. Jo took her hand and started tugging her along, leading Lisa to what she knew was the dojo, but she’d never been inside it before. As she followed Jocelyn’s lead, passing through two sets of sliding doors, she asked, “Why here?”

“It’s soundproof,” Jo told her. She shut the sliding doors as the pair walked inside, and Lisa took a moment to gaze around.

Wow. This was easily like a set taken from a martial arts movie. Everything was pristine, white or tan in color, and ordered to perfection. Two weapon racks sat on opposite ends of the room with various weapons on display. Several large posters were up, with Asian words Lisa couldn’t identify written on them. Directly opposite the entrance was a small alcove, with a pillow in the center of it and small tables on either side. One such table held an incense burner, but otherwise they were barren.

Pretty, she thought, if a bit boring. She imagined a few splashes of color here and there, some yellow over there and blue on that side, and decided it would look _way_ better if she’d been allowed to decorate.

“So,” Jocelyn began, coming to stand before Lisa, “what’s this about?”

Now that it was time to actually _say_ what she’d been thinking, Lisa hesitated. Her heart started racing from nerves and she bit her lip, struggling to get the words out. Jo, at least, was patient, just giving her a little smile, waiting for her to get on with it.

Then Lisa blurted, “Can you give me a makeover?”

Surprised, Jo blinked wide eyes at her, then replied, “Uhh, sure, but why?”

Uncomfortable now, Lisa started muttering, “Cause I wanna be pretty...”

Jo’s expression softened. “Lisa, you’re already pretty. You don’t need a makeover for that.”

Scowling, Lisa snapped, “No, I’m not! I’m _cute_ , it’s not the same thing.” And even _that_ was debatable.

“Cute, pretty, whatever,” Jocelyn said, “you’re already attractive.”

This wasn’t helping Lisa’s confidence in the least. She hinted, “But I wanna be pretty and confident and powerful...like you.”

That caught Jo off guard and she hesitated a moment, then gave a sigh and smiled. “Well, thanks for the compliment, but...what’s this about, Lisa?” When the shorter girl didn’t reply right away, Jo pressed, “This came out of nowhere. What’s going on? Does this have something to do with the whole Christmas present thing you’ve been struggling with?”

Lisa looked away, that wave of inadequacy coming rushing back, and replied softly, “Mikey told me he’d crushed on you, and said you were pretty...he never says _I’m_ pretty.” Every time he commented on her looks, he always used the words ‘cute’ and ‘cool’ and ‘fun’.

And that was great and everything, but now that Lisa knew he’d found Jocelyn so pretty, Lisa wanted him to say the same of _her_. Because, well...she was insecure and jealous.

Now Jocelyn smiled wide and pulled Lisa in for a tight hug. “That is _really_ adorable,” Jo told her, “but trust me when I tell you that you don’t _need_ this.”

Lisa accepted the hug easy enough, but Jo’s words made her jerk back. “Easy for _you_ to say, you’re irresistible!” she snapped. “Raph doesn’t even talk about other girls, he’s so crazy for you. You _know_ he’s never goin’ anywhere. But what if Mikey finds a girl who’s prettier than me? What if--”

Jo cut in with a sharp, “Lisa, that is _never_ happening!” Huffing, she grabbed Lisa’s arm and hauled her over to where a mirror was hung up. Shoving Lisa directly in front of her, making Lisa look at her reflection, Jo said, “Take a good look. _This_ is who Mikey fell for. Those are the eyes he loves, the hair he adores, the smile he talks about whenever you’re not here.”

Blushing, Lisa tried to pull away; Jo locked her arms around Lisa, keeping her in place.

“If you really, really want a makeover, I can do that,” Jocelyn told her. “But no matter what I do...” She pulled up Lisa’s chin, making her look in the mirror again. “ _This_ is who he wants when all is said and done. He loves you as you are, and he will always want you most just like this.”

That...helped. Lisa gave her an appreciative smile, saying, “Thanks, Jo...but, you know, I kinda do want a makeover anyway.” After all, she did still need to come up with some gifts for her boyfriend, and she was pretty sure he’d enjoy seeing her all polished up.

That could be step one of her Christmas gifts.

Nodding, Jo told her, “Okay, but let’s not stray too far from who you are -- and this is under the condition that _no matter what_ , this decision is _yours_ and no one else’s.”

“Deal. And in the meantime...”

The pair stayed in the dojo for a long while, sitting and talking to one another. For the first time Lisa asked about Jo’s experiences last Christmas, and received a _very_ surprising answer. She learned the guys had mostly received difficulty-to-find items and clothing, but Raph had been given a very, _very_ personalized one...

“You know that tattoo on my back? I revealed it to him last Christmas. In private.”

That was...stunning. And a hundred percent something the monstrously confident and sexy Jocelyn would do, Lisa thought.

It also gave her an idea.

“What if I got a tattoo?” she wondered aloud.

Thoughtful, Jo asked, “Do you _want_ a tattoo? Don’t get something for Mikey just because you think he’ll like it.”

“Yeah -- I mean, I do kinda want a tattoo,” Lisa explained. “I’ve always liked ‘em. Just...not sure what I’d get, y’know?”

“Anything in particular in mind?”

That was harder to answer. “Not really? Not yet,” Lisa tried.

Jo gave that a moment, processing, before checking, “Anything else?”

Lisa tapped her nose. “Thinking of getting a nose ring.”

“So a nose ring and a tattoo,” Jo concluded. Nodding, she thought on that, then offered, “We could swing by some shops, see if any designs catch your eye.”

Lisa gave a shrug. “It’s not super important, though.”

“It is if you wanna be healed before Christmas,” Jo pointed out. “But maybe that just means you can wait till Valentine’s or his birthday. Make your decisions then.”

“But then what’ll I do for Christmas?” Lisa demanded, arms wide. “I gotta figure out _something_.”

“Then figure out something,” Jo suggested. When Lisa huffed, frustrated, she began, “Okay, day one, starting now: we go shopping. We’ll start the makeover thing right now. Clothes first. I’ll bring Cassie in, she’s better at ‘pretty’ stuff.” She was already pulling out her phone, ready to get things started.

That was almost unfathomable. “I thought you were the best at all clothes stuff,” Lisa replied.

Jo chuckled. “Another compliment. Thanks. But no, I’m more...elegant-and-or-sexy. Cassie’s got way better eyes for cute-and-pretty stuff. Y’know, for a white girl.”

Lisa gave a loud laugh. “I’m telling her you said that,” she warned.

Jo winked. “Go ahead. She said it first.” As Lisa watched, she flipped her curls back and lifted the phone to her ear. Over the next few minutes, Lisa overheard one half of a conversation including the names of numerous high-end clothing shops _and_ more grunge-type ones. It sounded like they were discussing which was the best bet to visit first.

Lisa didn’t recognize the name of the one they decided on, but soon the conversation was over and Jo rose to her feet.

Offering a hand and smiling wide, she prompted, “Ready?”

* * *

 “So whatcha gettin’ Lisa for Christmas?” Raphael asked, eying Mikey in an amused manner.

Mikey -- still riding a high after that amazing make-up session a few days prior -- was grinning, glad to have the excuse to gush. “Hercules DJ controller, Macbook Pro, and me, wearing a bow.”

Raph chortled. “Yeah, and where’d you get the money for all that?”

“April.”

Tilting his head, Raph checked, “Does April know you’re using her funds...?”

“Duh,” Mikey intoned. “It was her idea. We worked it out -- me, her, and Donnie.”

That had Raph pausing, intrigued. “Donnie? Why’s he involved? What’re you two nerds cookin’ up?”

Mikey didn’t bother arguing that he wasn’t a nerd. Raph never got it right anyway. Instead, he shrugged, explaining, “Donnie said he’s gonna pay her back. Something about markets and idunno. Sounds like he’s setting up a trade thing with her. Ask him about it.”

“Yeah, don’t think so.”

“Anyway, what about you and Jo? Got plans?” Mikey asked, curious. Raph _always_ had plans when it came to Jocelyn, so Mikey fully expected to get affirmatives.

“Yeah, we, uh--” Raphael started, then cut himself off, thinking. At length he finished, “S’private. But yeah.”

“Hey, you asked about my presents. What’s yours?” Mikey pressed.

Grinning, Raph half-answered, “Got a place I’m takin’ her to. Pretty isolated an’ all that. An’ I got her some...clothes,” he finished, the pause in the middle making Mikey think it wasn’t _clothes_ so much as _things that could be worn._

Sounded hot.

“Just clothes? That can’t be it,” Mikey hinted.

“Shoes.”

Mikey laughed, realizing that _of course_ Raph was getting her shoes. The woman loved shoes and they all knew it. She had collection so large they kept finding heels all over the Lair despite her trying to keep them in her room. Hell, he was pretty sure that if she had to choose between going outside shoeless or topless, she’d choose topless.

“What’s so funny?” Leo asked, heading to the kitchen where Raph and Mikey were chatting.

“Shoes,” the brothers intoned in unison.

Leo gave a reluctant chuckle, shaking his head.

“But really,” Raph went on, “we’re talkin’ about Christmas an’ shit. So how ‘bout it, Leo -- what’re you gettin’ for Cassie?”

Mikey whapped Raph on the arm, hissing, “Dude!”

Leo was wearing a gigantic Off Limits sign above his head -- why did Raph never read them?

Predictably, Leo sighed, in the middle of setting up a tea kettle. Then, turning to them, he ventured, “Dunno. I really don’t. I mean, I know what she likes. I know what I _could_ get her. But I don’t think she wants anything -- not from me.”

Mikey’s heart squeezed in sympathy. “You sure about that? You could try asking Jo,” he offered. “You know she’d think of something.”

“Know what I think?” Raph began. “I think she wants _you_. Not for a date, not as a present -- just you, bro.”

Leo looked exhausted, his expression totally humorless. “Right -- cause I haven’t tried that already?”

“Have you, really?” Mikey checked. “Have you tried just sitting with her and talking all day long? Hangin’ out? Just being with her?”

“That--” Leo began.

Raph cut him off, “We know you haven’t, Leo. You rarely go see her. You’ve never once been with her for more than a couple hours. S’no wonder you’re always talkin’ about how empty the relationship is -- you’re not fillin’ it with anything.”

That...was an excellent point, Mikey thought, a little amazed at his brother. When looked Leo’s way, he saw the eldest seemed stuck in the same stun.

“...Fair,” Leo commented after a long moment. He bit his lip and sighed, then nodded. “Alright, you made your points. I’ll talk to her, see what she wants to do. In the meantime, the both of you can take whatever advice you’re thinking of giving, put it in a box, tie it up all nice, and bury it.”

Mikey and Raph both laughed, but it got Mikey thinking: did he really have so much advice to give? Lisa was his first (confirmed) girlfriend, and Jo was Raph’s first. It’s not like they really had any great revelations to offer. But then, he supposed, Cassie was _Leo’s_ first girlfriend, too.

They were on equal standing, all things considered. It’d be foolish to try and talk like experts when they knew barely more than Leo did on the subject.

“Oh, Leo,” Raph began, “I _do_ have one more bit of advice...”

“No thanks--” Leo started.

“No ballet presents,” Raph interrupted.

“What’d I just-- what?” Leo said, surprised. “You’re serious? No ballet stuff?”

“None,” Raph intoned.

That confused Mikey, too. “Why not?”

Leaning back in his seat, Raph was about to begin -- and then the kettle began whistling. They waited while Leo dealt with it, and after a minute the three of them were sitting at a table together, each holding a teacup with a teapot between them.

Raph’s was smaller than his own fingertips.

It was _hilarious_.

“Now -- the ballet thing?” Leo prompted.

Raph didn’t answer right away, instead taking a ridiculously long drink from his cup, slurping obnoxiously. Mikey laughed; Leo did not.

Eventually Leo nudged the bigger man, annoyed.

Chuckling, Raph set his cup down and explained, “It’s somethin’ Jocelyn told me. When it comes to ballet, she knows exactly what she needs, how much of it, how to get it -- an’ she’s got the money for it. She prefers gettin’ what she needs herself. Cassie’d be the same, so don’t get her, like, shoes and shit. She’s got that handled.”

Leo pondered on that for a moment, contemplating his teacup. At length he replied, “And paraphernalia?”

“There’s what in your where?” Mikey returned, missing the word entirely but figuring this was as good a response as any.

Raph snorted; Leo gave a dry laugh, explaining, “Paraphernalia. In my presents for Cassie. Maybe.”

“That sounds contagious.”

“I hope so.”

That had Mikey devolving into amused giggles. He liked it when Leo joked with them, rare as it might be.

“It means,” Leo explained, “themed stuff -- objects, mostly -- that’re worthless but nice to have. Collector’s stuff.”

That clicked. “Like anime figures? Keychains? Those long pillows with girls on them?”

“Anyone else concerned that he knows what all that crap is?” Raph asked no one.

Mikey blew a raspberry at him.

“Exactly, Mikey -- and yeah, Raph. Yeah,” Leo sighed.

“Wow, been a while since you guys turned on me like this,” Mikey commented dryly. “It’s nostalgic.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Raph replied. “I’ve been slacking lately. I’m sure I can get back up to my normal of seventeen times a day if I try, though.”

“Oh, thanks,” Mikey said, sarcastic. “Things just aren’t normal around here without me getting insulted constantly.”

“I know, right?”

“Guys,” Leo chuckled. “Enough. Raph, you didn’t answer me -- would Cassie be okay with paraphernalia?”

“Probably,” Raph answered, shrugging. “Ask her.”

“Does Jo like that extra stuff?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah. She really likes Swan Lake, so sometimes I get ‘er stuff involving a white and black swan. Pairs of figurines and stuff like that. That’s an idea -- what’s Cassie’s favorite play?” Raph asked Leo.

Leo...didn’t answer. “Uhh,” was all he could offer.

Mikey and Raph shared a glance.

“Yeah, you, uh,” Raph began, “you should figure that out.”

Leo heaved a sigh, dropping his head. “Well, I’m starting to see my own problem, at least...”

When he didn’t elaborate, Mikey prompted, “Which is...?”

With a wry, wincing grin, Leo answered, “I’ve been...treating her the same way I treat you guys. I just expected to know everything, I guess. Like I shouldn’t have to ask...so I haven’t.”

“Seriously?” Raph grunted, caught somewhere between offense and amusement. He scoffed. “Know what? I’m tellin’ her that.”

“What? No!” Leo snapped.

“No, this is good,” Mikey told him. “Just tell her that this’s why things were so weird. Then you can move forward. You want that, right?”

“Well, yeah, but--”

“No buts,” Raph said, then paused with a look of horror. “I just became Dad for a sec.”

“Scary,” Mikey commented.

“Yeah that was weird,” Leo agreed.

“Neither of you will tell anyone about that, least of all Jocelyn,” Raph warned them, pointing between them.

“Sure, but what about Donnie?” Leo checked.

“Donnie? He’s not h--” Raph started, then cut himself off.

In unison, the three of them looked towards the security area. Sure enough, there was Donnie, and he sheepishly gave them a wave -- proving that he’d been watching and listening from his place a good twenty feet away.

Raph sighed, looking defeated. Or at least tired.

“Anyway,” Mikey interjected, looking to offer whatever help he could, “if Cassie’s anything like Lisa, she’ll appreciate time more than stuff. Spend Christmas _with_ her, not money _on_ her.”

As Leo thought on that, Raph suggested, “Give ‘er the city -- same way I did with Jo on our first date. Take her somewhere only we can reach. Give ‘er somethin’ personal, somethin’ unique, somethin’ no one else can just get.”

Smirking, Mikey added, “Borrow the penthouse for the night.”

And though Leo looked awkward at the suggestion, Mikey totally caught him smiling, too.

Utterly confident in the future, Mikey sent a glance towards Donnie. _Three down,_ he thought, _one to go._


	39. Chapter 39

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

When Lisa came back some hours later, she had a new nosering and a couple bags with her. She’d gotten a few shirts, hoodies and pants, and Jocelyn had offered thoughts and critiques on each piece. Overall, her analyzing was, “Looks good, especially on you. You have a good eye for your style, Lisa.”

She appreciated that.

Now her next step was to stealthily get a tattoo, cause during their spree she’d had the best idea.

Mikey had some interesting patterns to his plastron.

One of them was clearly in the shape of a heart.

Now all she had to do was recreate it without his knowledge and -- hopefully tomorrow -- she’d find a tattooist who could apply it for her. Jocelyn suggested she have Donnie do it, but Lisa didn’t think that’d be a good idea; Jo had done the same thing, after all. It’d be too obvious.

She could see it now: Mikey noticing her going to see Donnie one day for no good reason and hanging out with him, in private, for a few hours.

Yeah -- Mikey would get it. And then he’d end up dying with anticipation. No, she’d rather spring it on him as a total surprise.

The hardest part would be keeping it a secret until Christmas, but then, she knew how to get around that, too. Step One had already begun:

She was taking holiday gigs for various clubs. She was going to be exhausted, going forward, but it’d provide extra funds, have her gone for hours at a time,  _ and _ give her the excuse to sleep during all of her free time.

Win/win.

It was getting pretty late when she and Jo finally got back, the boys already gone out on patrol. That gave her the freedom to get things set up for Step Two.

She prowled the Lair, looking around at things she’d never really seen before. She needed a hiding place for her presents, somewhere the guys would never just look. Jo was keeping hers in her and Raph’s room, she said; Raph knew better than to go snooping on “her side”.

Lisa didn’t think she could trust Mikey to not do that. He was too curious, too excitable, too  _ childlike _ .

She loved that about him, but in this case it was a problem.

She was pondering this deeply -- over there wouldn’t work, she’d seen the guys climbing all over the pipes; that wouldn’t work, it was too close to Donnie’s lab, he’d definitely notice; hell, they were ninjas, did she really think she could hide anything from them? -- when Splinter spooked her.

“You look frustrated this evening,” he commented.

She yelped, jolting, then let out shaky, self-deprecating laughs. When was she going to get used to him?  _ Christ. _

“Hey, Splinter,” she sighed, focusing on him. He apologized for scaring her -- again -- but she waved it off. She was pretty sure he was doing that on purpose, anyway.

Then he asked, “Is there any way I can help today?”

Well. He once worked in retail, she thought, amused. Aloud, she answered, “Yeah, actually. I’m looking for hiding places. I don’t have any presents yet but I plan on getting at least one for everyone. I just don’t want them finding everything. Cause, y’know, they’re ninjas and whatever. I don’t know where I can hide them where your super sneaky sons won’t find ‘em.”

Splinter chuckled, nodding. “Well, it warms this old rat’s heart to hear your intentions. Thank you for thinking of them, my dear.”

_ And you, _ she thought, but she was definitely hiding his stuff in Mikey’s room. It was going to be the bigger surprise.

“I may have a solution, as well,” he went on, and she perked up. At her attentive look, he offered, “I could keep them in my room until Christmas day.”

Oh. That was  _ brilliant _ . The brothers weren’t allowed in Splinter’s room for any reason. She knew this cause Mikey, chatterbox that he was, mentioned it multiple times already -- each time with either blistering interest or somber whines.

He  _ really _ wanted in there.

“Okay...okay, yeah, that sounds great,” she said, grinning. “Thank you. But, um, I guess this means I should make sure I get them wrapped before bringing them in. Yeah,” she agreed with herself, “that’s probably best. Okay, sweet! We got it!”

Splinter was chuckling, tickled by her reaction. Giving her arm a pat, he said, “Whenever you’re ready, then.”

The affectionate move was a little weird to her -- she didn’t have a dad, after all, so she didn’t know if this was normal fatherly behavior -- but after a moment of  _ haha what is this warmth in my chest _ she got it together and bade him good night.

She didn’t go to bed, though. Not right away. First she went to see Jocelyn, finding the other woman in the weights room, unsurprisingly. She was examining one of the walls with a contemplative look that Lisa recognized and, honestly, kind of feared.

Whenever Jo got thoughtful like that, it meant something big was getting planned, and Lisa would really just rather not know what it was.

But she had a point to think visit and got right down to it: coordinating. She wanted to make sure neither of got the same gifts for anyone, and she also took the moment to get direct insight and ask Jo what kinds of gifts she’d prefer from Lisa.

She’d brought her notebook for this and made a ton of notes before the end of the talk. They weren’t in any specific order -- a sign of her disordered life, maybe -- but that wasn’t much of an issue. The brothers were so different that it would be impossible to confuse one’s gift for another’s anyway.

One thing surprised her, though.

“No ballet stuff? Really?”

Jo laughed -- hard. She had to lean on a wall and take several moments to get over it, in fact, and by the end Lisa was feeling a mixture of embarrassment and offense.

Why was this so funny?!

“But -- you’re a ballerina,” Lisa tried. Jo just laughed harder. Incensed, Lisa snapped, “Oh, come on! I thought you’d appreciate more supplies or whatever. Stop laughing at me!”

Shaking her head, Jo fought for control, eventually calming down enough to talk. “A-alright, hang on.” She coughed and cleared her throat, composing herself with difficulty. Then, after steadying herself with a few breaths, she explained, “I’m not laughing at you -- I had this conversation already. Twice. Once with Raph, once with Leo. It’s just funny cause it’s following the exact same pattern.”

Then, thoughtful, she added, “Three.”

Confused, Lisa echoed, “Three?”

Giving a strained smile, Jo clarified, “My OCD. Three’s my number. I just thought it was funny this time.”

Oh.

Awkward and unsure how to handle that, Lisa took the coward’s way out: she changed the subject. “S-so anyway, no ballet stuff. Okay. But why?”

“Cause it’s not one-size-fits-all,” Jo told her. “Every dancer has their own preferences. You could get an entire troupe a pair of slippers and every single one of them will alter the shoes in a different way.”

Surprised, Lisa asked, “Wait, you alter your shoes?”

“Well, yes -- like I said, it’s not one-size-fits-all. Everyone always ends up developing their own habits and methods,” Jo hinted. “I’ve known a couple girls who would tear out the inner lining, replacing it with soles they made at home, and lots more who’d sew on their own ribbons.”

Oh, wow. Color Lisa impressed. Then, curious, she asked, “Hey, how many pairs of slippers do you have, anyway?”

“Right now?” Jo checked. “Nine.”

Lisa’s eyes got huge. “Nine?” she echoed, shocked.

“Yeah -- three threes,” Jo explained. “But the main point is to have a bunch in various levels of wear. I test them out whenever I practice, see what feels best.”

Suffice to say Lisa didn’t expect any of that, and now she had a whole new level of respect for ballet. She’d never really given it much thought, granted, but finding out just how much effort went into a single pair of slippers convinced her that there was a whole other side to ballet that she’d never known.

Then, shaking herself out of it, she confirmed, “Okay, right, you handle all your own supplies. Got it.”

Jo winked. “Same for you, right? All DJs have their own style, am I right?”

An excellent point. Smiling, Lisa nodded, replying, “Yeah, we do. Two DJs could use the same booth in a single night and sound totally different.”

“Welcome to the wide world of individuality,” Jo teased.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Lisa deadpanned.

“Not as funny as Mikey, I know.”

“Damn right.”

Jocelyn laughed.

* * *

 

“What’s that?! Lisa -- wake up!”

She groaned against the intrusion, having been sleeping quite comfortable until right now. She was getting her arm shaken, and paired with her boyfriend’s excited voice, she just couldn’t ignore it.

“Whaaaa?” was her annoyed response, shooing the hands off her.

“You got a nosering?!” he blurted.

She cracked open an eye, finding him kneeling on the bed and watching her with a grinning, elated expression.

“Yeah?” she responded, not quite clicking in yet. She reached up to absently pet the piercing circling her nostril, wincing a little as it gave a warning sting.

“It’s so cute,” Mikey was saying, sounding lovestruck. “Aw, but it’s swollen,” he added after a second, despondent.

“Yeah -- they do that,” she said around a huge yawn. Then, waving him off, she muttered, “Kay, that’s done, go to sleep.” She turned over for effect, presenting him with her back as she began drifting off again.

She heard him rustling around for a while before she was out again, and it totally slipped by her that she was hearing wrapping paper.

When she woke up again, one of the first things she noticed was a smear of red on her pillow.  _ Crap! _ She hurried out of bed to check the bathroom mirror, looking at her nosering carefully.

There was a small scab right beside the wound, but otherwise it looked fine. Even the swelling had gone down. Looks like it’d just lost a drop or two of blood while she’d been asleep. Par for the course, she thought; her brow piercings had bled  _ way _ worse.

But then she’d woken up one morning to find they’d gotten tangled around some threads of her pillowcase, so of course they had.

She’d rushed to the bathroom so quick she hadn’t noticed the obvious until she was on her way out again: presents. A whole pile of them in different brightly-colored wrappings and bows. They were stuck between the dresser and bookcase, right behind the giant beanbag, and she was surprised by the mountain they made.

_ Jesus. _ Mikey didn’t pull his punches with gift-giving, did he? And did he seriously get  _ all _ of those just last night? How many trips did it take??

A part of her was dying with curiosity, wanting to check the tags and find out which of those monsters went to which person, but she fought the impulse. This was better, anyway; she’d much prefer to be surprised on all counts.

And, she saw, he’d been very clever with the wrapping, too. None of it was in solid colors. They were all just festively-designed montages of Santa, reindeer, wreaths, snowflakes, and the like. She’d have expected him to go the color-coded route, but this was much better. It lent doubt to which one was which.

She liked it.

Once she’d sated her curiosity a bit, she remembered her plan for today and made a grab for her phone -- on the headboard. It was a stretch to reach without stepping on the waterbed, but she got it. Now for the harder part: getting a good picture of Mikey’s belly.

He slept on his stomach. She expected they all did, really. So how to get him to roll over?

She chewed her lip on the idea for a while, finally going with little nudges. He slept pretty heavy when he knew it was just her, she’d learned, and often obeyed her requests without ever waking up. She tried to do so now, giving him very light pets until he roused enough to respond when she asked him to turn over.

Eventually she got him on his side, muttering about nachos -- seriously, Mikey? -- and something about Goku having trouble going “super saiyan”. Whatever. Amused, she knelt down on the floor, aimed, and snapped a pic centered on his lower torso.

It didn’t turn out well. Frustrated, she started fiddling with filters and the flash in different combinations until, finally, she got one that really showed off his heart pattern.

_ Sweet! _

She caught herself admiring the image for a while before remembering she had to get going. Pocketing her phone, she got ready to head out, planning the day in her head. It was the weekend, she had today and tomorrow off, so she was going to be spending the entire day with Jocelyn, Cassie, April, and -- if she was willing to come along -- Lexa.

It was shopping spree day.

Before she left the room, though, she couldn’t resist taking a moment to give her boyfriend a smooch. Still dead asleep, she nonetheless heard him churr in response, and it had butterflies going crazy in her belly. Grinning, she left, letting him sleep.

Jocelyn was already relaxing in the kitchen (looking like a winter fox, of course; was there any time she  _ didn’t _ crush it with her fashion?!) by the time Lisa was ready and joined her. They hung out there, chatting about their men, their men’s brothers, and generally what they were going to do today, and all the while Lisa focused on drawing Mikey’s heart pattern in her notebook. She needed a really good recreation of it to give to the tattoo artist she’d be seeing today, and holy shit did that make her excited.

Jo, of course, caught on and double and triple-checked to make sure Lisa knew what she was doing.

The amused part of Lisa had her replying, “Well, yeah -- I’m keeping a tradition alive.” After all, last year Jocelyn had done this same thing for Raphael.

Dropping that subject with a shake of her head and roll of her eyes, Jo chose then to ask, “What about Lexa? Think she’ll come today?”

Lisa could only shrug. “I pissed her off pretty bad, so I dunno. I apologized and asked her to come and whatever, but she hasn’t replied yet.”

“So she’s ignoring you?” Jo checked, concerned.

“Sorta. She does this when she’s pissed,” Lisa explained. Then, gaze dropping, she added quietly, “I miss her, and I  _ am _ sorry. I just...ran off at the mouth.”

Jo was silent for a moment, pondering that, before offering a smile. “Well...that’s a good sign, at least.” At Lisa’s perplexed look, she explained, “That you ‘ran off at the mouth’ to her -- you never do that, Lisa. It means you trust her more than anyone else.”

An odd perspective, Lisa thought, but it made sense. Was she really so aggressive with Lexa because she had faith Lexa would come back from it? Regardless, she still regretted all two of their arguments and wanted her friend back.

“Yeah, well,” she sighed, “how  _ I _ feel isn’t important anymore. It’s how  _ she _ feels that is.”

“Point made,” Jo agreed. “Anyway, enough of that. We’re having fun today, whether or not Lexa is there. Focus on that, okay?”

Lisa nodded. “Can do.  _ Mom.” _

Jo laughed.

April arrived not too long after that, their ride for the day. Donnie was up then -- for some reason -- and the girls greeted him before departing. Lisa noticed the coffee cup glued to his hand and assumed he was just dealing with insomnia.

Cassie was meeting them at their first destination, and on the way there, Lisa finally got a response from Lexa. Her phone alerted her to a text, and when she pulled it out, she gave a strained smile.

[okay. look. im glad you apologized. but you dont get to say sorry and then expetc everything to go back to normal. hear me?]

Sighing, Lisa accepted that, then replied:

[yeah ur right. but thats why i invited you today. i wanna get evrything back to normal. will uc ome?]

[ppppllleeeeaaaassseeee????]

She didn’t get a reply right away. She was alright with that; knowing how Lexa ticked, Lisa expected her to ponder on that and weigh her thoughts before responding. So she added an addendum:

[were gonna be out all day prolly so if you forgive me just let me know. youll prolly still be in time for something]

_ There, _ she thought.  _ Ball’s in her court now. _ All that was left to do was wait and see what Lexa would decide. In the meantime, they had a full schedule to attend to. Her tattoo would be last, thanks to advice from Jocelyn, so there was time to spare until then.

* * *

 

When Mikey woke up, the first thing he noticed was a lack of a certain extra-cute girl. He gave a whine as he rolled out of bed, calling her name, and retrieved his phone to check for texts when he got no reply. Maybe she’d left him a note--

[out shoppng, no guessing ok boo? thnx 😜💋💋💋]

Welp, there went his heart, swelling and exploding with love. She was getting presents, wasn’t she? It was late for such things -- Christmas was less than two weeks away -- but luckily New York always accounted for that. She’d find whatever she was looking for, he was sure.

In his case, he already had a full haul ready to go. As far as he knew, so did his brothers and father, though he didn’t know where they’d gotten theirs or where they were hiding them now. In Mikey’s case he’d left his gifts at April’s (with her permission) and did most of the wrapping there before bringing them back home.

It’d taken him over a week of stealthy trips to get it done, and finally last night he’d finished wrapping the last of his stash and recruited April to drive them most of the way to the Lair for him. Then he’d hidden them (sort of) behind the beanbag, hoping Lisa wouldn’t notice. He checked them now and found them untouched, so he guessed she hadn’t seen them yet.

Sweet!

When he left his room to get some food in his belly, he found his brothers already gathered (the one way they were always faster than him: getting to the kitchen) and discussing decorations.

A lot had already been done, garlands and ornaments and lights strung up around the pipes and walls. And as Mikey showed up, some information was swapped, eventually concluding that their respective girls were all gone for, presumably, the entire day.

They realized it at the same time: they had  _ an entire day _ to set up anything they wanted.

They immediately got to work doing just that.

Splitting up, Mikey went first and foremost for the huge, fake tree they’d used last year, starting to put it together. It was a good ten feet tall, this one, and was so well-structured that the fake leaves looked full and legitimate once it was all set up.

Raph went for the tree’s specific decorations, busing the boxes out and placing them nearby. Delicate work wasn’t usually his forte, but he helped by working on untangling dozens of meters of Christmas lights and changing out any dead bulbs.

Leo and Donnie climbed up near the ceiling to set up some machines that Mikey had never seen before, so he wasn’t sure what they were at first. But by the time he finished with the tree, he caught Donnie giving each little box-sized machine a test run; each one belched out -- snow?

Mikey had to stop and ask about that, surprised and dumbfounded. Donnie’s explanation went right over his head, but Leo’s made more sense: they were setting up the machines on water pipes in strategic places, and the machine rapidly chilled the water they were fed with, then launched the snow into the air.

They were meant to be used only once, because -- well,  _ snow _ \-- so they were going to be turned on only during the Christmas Eve party. It had Mikey feeling excited as all hell; did this mean he would get the chance to play in the snow with Lisa?!

Granted, it’d be indoors, but it would be amazing anyway, he thought. The girls were going to  _ love _ it.

And, totally amazed by Donnie’s brilliance, Mikey called up to him, “Bro, you’re the greatest!”

Donnie grinned.

Then, individual tasks completed, they each started bringing out their wrapped presents -- and, Mikey saw with pride, his haul was the biggest. Pointing it out, he teased, “That means I love everyone the most of everyone.”

Raph reached out, rubbing Mikey’s head roughly, and retorted, “Yeah sure, lil bro, keep tellin’ yerself that.” 

What they all noticed, though: so far  _ only _ they had gotten presents. Raph had nothing to add on Jocelyn’s behalf, and Splinter didn’t add to the pile either. Granted, though, it was a  _ really _ big pile; it was already spilling out past the tree’s skirt and couldn’t really hold anything else anyway.

It was a heartwarming thing to see, really. For so many years all they’d had to give was bits of refuse they’d managed to scrape up and polish, and now they could finally  _ buy _ things -- if only through others. It was good enough, and certainly more than he’d ever hoped for.

They unanimously agreed to leave the tree decorating for when the girls came back, and Splinter chose then to direct them to the dojo anyway. It was past time they got today’s training in; he’d been generous and allowed them plenty of time to decorate everything first.

Splinter was the best dad, honestly.

Lately he’d been working the brothers to be better at total darkness awareness and skill, and today was no different. Once he had them in different corners, he cut the lights and called two of them to the center mat for a blind fight. And, they knew, they’d be docked points if they got lost in the darkness and accidentally ended up fighting the wrong brother -- it’d happened to each of them more than once in the past few weeks.

Mikey could still feel a throb in his shoulder from where Donnie had accidentally struck him with a staff just two days ago. Now he made sure to keep on defense even when it wasn’t his turn in the middle.

Splinter had disallowed bladed weapons, so Leo and Raph got replacements of the wooden variety, but even so they’d all had some damn hard knocks so far. It was just really hard to properly defend yourself with your strongest sense stripped away.

Unsurprisingly, Leo proved to be the best in this particular arena, and Raphael was easily the worst; he had the hardest time keeping his movements silent with his sheer mass weighing him down. Thus, Splinter often had Raph facing Donnie, since Donnie had the disadvantage of getting lost fairly easily, constantly having reorient himself. They were roughly balanced.

Mikey was  _ almost _ as quiet as Leo but notably quicker, so the two of them had some great spars as well.

The worst part about this training, he mused, was the fact that he couldn’t see any of the sick moves he could hear going on. He could guess and imagine -- and he figured that was one of Splinter’s points -- but without being able to  _ see _ it, he could never be sure if Raph had punched or kicked to get that grunt out of Donnie and so on.

Today’s session proved to have a twist, though: music.

They saw nothing, had barely heard anything, but suddenly heavy metal music was blaring through the room. Mikey recoiled, hands over his ears, cringing against the noise -- it sounded like a guy was just screaming into a microphone while a drummer and guitarist randomly hammered away at their instruments!

He tried to yell for answers but couldn’t even hear his own voice, let alone have any hope of anyone else hearing. Now he had even  _ less _ idea what was going on in the fight, but he could guess that Donnie and Leo -- this round’s pairing -- had stopped dead.

Then the music cut out just as suddenly and, past the ringing in his ears, he caught Splinter chortling, amused.

“Dad, what the fuck?!” Raph snapped.

“Raph!” Leo chided.

Splinter just replied, “Prepare yourselves.”

They barely had time to tense, Mikey flinching preemptively, and then -- soft, orchestral music started playing? And it was really soothing and low?

“What?” Mikey blurted, confused.

There was no sound for a long moment as they all puzzled this out, up until Splinter prompted them to continue the fight. Dumbfounded, they did so, and Mikey heard almost-silent sounds of the spar picking up again. It was hard to guess who was who by the footfalls, but he damn well tried, struggling to keep track of his brothers.

Then the music changed again, this time to  _ bluegrass _ , of all things. And Mikey couldn’t help it: he burst out laughing. He was starting to get the idea here, and it was getting hilarious. The music was a distraction, right? Background noise?

A stray hit whacked him in the leg, tripping him with a surprised yelp.

_ Quiet. Right. _ Figuring it was Splinter who’d tripped him as a chastisement, Mikey got back on his feet notably more quietly than his unceremonious tumble had been. Then, fighting with the --  _ music _ \-- he tried to refocus on the battle. Where had his brothers gone? He couldn’t hear a damn thing around that -- what -- trio of banjos and some kind of bongo from the song?

Damn it, he couldn’t find them! Listening for a shuffle of feet and missed strikes, designed to be utterly silent, against loud music was practically impossible. He wasn’t even sure his brothers were still fighting at this point.

The lesson followed this theme for a long while, the music randomly swapping between songs of different genres, speeds and noise as the brothers rotated opponents. When it got to Mikey’s turn, facing against Donnie, he was starting to be able to pick up on the slight sounds of bare feet on the tatami mats.

Then Splinter upped his game: he started walking around with the stereo, changing the direction and distance of the music and making things that much harder.

Hours passed like this. By the end he had no idea what time it was, having totally lost his sense of time. He’d also gotten a beatdown from  _ each _ of his brothers, successfully proving that he was the worst at this specific kind of battle -- or, more specifically, this kind of distraction.

And he got it. Sort of. He loved music more than anyone, and that’s probably why Splinter chose his first match to start being mobile. Mikey needed to learn how to ignore one of his favorite things, and that was  _ really hard _ . Everyone else had adapted pretty well, but Mikey still caught himself pondering on the instruments and lengths of the beats right up until the end of the session.

By then he was aching all over and sporting numerous new bruises, including a split lip. And he couldn’t help thinking how sad it was that now he couldn’t even kiss Lisa without wincing. That was going to suck.

Well, until it healed, anyway. Probably just a day for that. Still, it was a tragedy.

As they filed out of the dojo, discussing the spars, Splinter called Mikey back with a soft, “Michelangelo.”

He paused, turning his attention to his father. Figuring this was about the training, he replied, “Yes, sensei?”

Splinter waved him forward, taking a seat, and waited until Mikey was kneeling before speaking. “I am curious: what lesson did you take from today?”

“Most bluegrass sucks,” Mikey commented dryly.

Splinter chuckled, then turned stern. “Is that all?”

“No -- I,” Mikey started, then sighed, “I get distracted too easy. I lose focus. I’m trying, sensei,” he insisted.

“I could see that,” Splinter told him. “Perhaps this is my fault. As children, I let you do as you liked far too much. As teenagers, I played to your interests to help train you. I never built your focus, myself, and that is a failing on my part as your sensei and your father.”

Whoa, what? Mikey had just thought, a few hours ago, that Splinter was the best father there was! And now Splinter was saying the opposite?

“Dad, no -- you never failed,” Mikey told him. “Like, ever. I should know, I’ve been here my whole life,” he joked. Splinter gave him a warm smile, and Mikey continued, “Look, I know I’m scatterbrained. But that’s not you, that’s me. Besides, you  _ did _ teach me how to focus -- you think I’d be even half of what I am without you, Dad?”

Splinter didn’t reply, watching Mikey with a kind of wonder, so Mikey went on, “You taught me literally everything I know -- well, except the drums. And skateboarding. And cooking -- that was Jo. Anyway,” he went on, already distracted, “the point is, you  _ did _ build me up. Maybe you can’t see it, cause you’re Dad and you’re always looking for things to improve, but I can. Five out of four stars,” he said, firm.

Splinter chuckled again, amused. “You give me too much credit -- I never taught you humor, either,” he hinted.

“To be fair, I never taught myself, either,” Mikey pointed out.

Shaking his head, the rat went on, “Consider, if you would, that you taught yourself a great deal more than you think you did. Today, I did not teach you how to hear the battle under the music,” he said, “but you learned it anyway.”

That was a good point. Splinter never gave a single directive once that music began; it was every man for himself, essentially, and Mikey could guess that they’d all learned slightly different variations of how to mute the noise in favor of the spars.

Something worth considering, indeed.

Now all Mikey had to do was perfect that technique so he could stop getting distracted by the sweet beats and actually keep his ears on his opponent. Thanks to the frequency of these spars he at least had a well-developed spacial awareness now -- when it started he kept hitting the walls more than his brothers. It was embarrassing as hell.

He wondered if the next lesson, once they’d mastered blind-fighting, would be deaf-fighting. That’d be weird.

All that done, Mikey left once he was dismissed, and experienced a wave of dismay when he realized Lisa was still out.  _ Damn it. _ Oh well, time for sneak-peeking his presents, instead... 


	40. Chapter 40

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

First stop: one of the biggest (and busiest) malls in Manhattan. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was the best way to see merchandise of every possible variety in a short amount of time. Cassie was there when Lisa and company arrived, and C-J immediately ran into each other’s arms with happy shrieks.

To April, Lisa checked, “Didn’t they just see each other yesterday?”

“Probably, it was Friday,” April answered, amused.

To be honest, it was kind of painful to see Jo’s relationship with her friend. Lisa had never had that -- not for long -- and she was still worried that Lexa wouldn’t forgive her for their last fight. With the loss of Sam, too, she had the sudden realization that Mikey and his family might be the only friends she had left.

She’d better make sure it stayed that way, then.

“Alright,” she called, “quit makin’ out. It was  _ your  _ idea to do a group shopping spree,” she reminded Jocelyn.

Giving her a look, Jo replied, “Makin’ out? You wanna see makin’ out, Lise?”

No, no she did not -- but Lisa retorted, “I’m sure the crowd you’re drawing does.”

Sure enough, when Cassie and Jo looked, they noticed a large number of men gazing their way. Some quickly looked away, ashamed at having been caught; others leered, winked, nodded, and so on.

Eyes rolling all around, the squad of females moved on, opting to pull a circle-the-floor, hit-every-shop strategy before climbing to the second level. At some point in between was lunch, of course -- provided they could agree on where to go. Easier said than done, that.

More of the shops were ignored than investigated, their choices split between what they wanted to look for and whether or not the store was already packed with shoppers.

It was decided to hold off on Lisa getting her tattoo until she knew exactly where she wanted it and after they were done shopping, given its location might end up making it too difficult to keep going. To that end, she also discussed it with the females with her, getting opinions on where would be the best place to get her tattoo.

They disagreed, which was aggravating for Lisa. Cassie suggested her ankle, Jo suggested her chest, April suggested her belly. And they argued their points as Lisa watched on, surprised.

“Ankles hurt the least,” Cassie said, “and they’re easy to hide.”

“But it needs to be personal and emotional,” Jo shot back, “and what’s a better place for that than the chest?”

“The lower stomach is easier to hide than the chest,” April pointed out, “and more personal than the ankle.”

_ Oh, my god. _

Lisa had been considering getting it on the side of her neck, personally, and now she didn’t know what to think anymore. Just under her breasts had also been a thought, given it’d make a pretty good parallel to Mikey’s pattern, and with the women arguing she decided to suggest it, herself.

“What about upper stomach? It’d be hidden there whenever I want,” she explained, “and it’s right about where Mikey’s pattern is. Personal enough?” she teased Jocelyn.

Jo looked intrigued. “Right about here?” she checked, gesturing just under her own breasts in a vague heart shape.

“Exactly.”

The females shared glances, and -- surprisingly -- no one argued. Instead, after a moment, Lisa received three steady smiles.

“Love it.”

That settled, they went about their day, steadily getting armfuls of bags and boxes and needing to take the occasional break to load everything up in April’s car. After a good three of these trips and five or six hours of unbroken shopping, Lisa got the best surprise: Lexa.

The tall and beautiful tan girl just showed up, surprising Lisa when she just rounded a corner and they spotted each other.

“Lexa?!” Lisa gasped, shocked but delighted.

Offering a smile, Lexa shrugged, replying, “Missed you, dork.”

At once Lisa felt her eyes watering. She strode straight up to the taller girl, saying, “Not as much as I missed you, nerd.”

They hesitated there, less than an arm’s length apart, displaying quite clearly that neither of them were fully comfortable with the shaky reunion.

Then, from behind Lisa, Jo called, “Just kiss already!”

Lisa threw a glare over her shoulder -- right before Lexa, snorting, grabbed her and gave her a huge smooch on the cheek. The yelp that Lisa gave was unholy, and she squirmed and fought to free herself...but she was laughing at the same time.

Weird friendships aside, she’d truly missed having Lexa around. And the moment she got done wiping off her cheek, she couldn’t help it. She surged up and hugged Lexa tight, missing her like she’d missed a part of herself. It was  _ such _ a relief to have her back.

Lexa seemed to be of the same mindset, because she hugged back, murmuring, “No more fights -- deal?”

“Deal,” Lisa agreed easily. She’d only had a few over her lifetime and she’d already gotten tired of them. She was perfectly happy to never have another.

Since Lexa, Cassie and Jo already knew each other, Lisa only needed to introduce April and Lexa. It went smoothly, April offering a handshake and a greeting while Lexa sized up the shortest female in the group, smirking, and then the quintet got back to work.

Lexa was a  _ huge _ help for Lisa, knowing her as well as she did, and the both of them being DJs to boot. In fact, Lexa helped in two ways: giving Lisa a second DJ’s perspective  _ and _ tearing her away from said perspective. It kept her grounded in a way Jo, Cassie and April just couldn’t match.

The best part of shopping together like this, Lisa mused some hours later, was the ability for them all to coordinate, ensuring no one doubled up on gifts. Lisa still remembered a time when she was a just six or seven and got the exact same Barbie doll from two relations on her birthday, neither of whom had checked with the other.

She technically still had them, which she’d named Nancy and Suzie, the twins. Funny enough, they’d been ballerina Barbies. Maybe she should regift them for Jocelyn....

The only issue they had was in getting gifts for one another, considering it was hard to do so secretly -- well, and Lisa being pretty strapped for cash, too. Not having to pay bills the last month still hadn’t given her all that much extra money, so she had to be careful with her spending, trying (and failing, if she were honest) to keep a mental tab on her funds.

In the end she resorted to withdrawing another $200 every so often at an ATM -- and soon watching her checking account drain to double digits.

Yeah, this would have to be enough, she thought. At least she’d gotten Mikey his gifts first; that was her biggest concern. Her mother and grandparents were next on her list of priorities, followed by Sam (estranged though they’d become, he was still her brother), and then the brothers and the girls in roughly equal standing. 

The only one she hadn’t shopped for yet was Lexa, because until now she wasn’t so sure they’d even still be friends come Christmas -- and because Lexa was the easiest to shop for, given she and Lisa had nearly identical tastes.

At the end, they decided to split up and meet back up in an hour with their gifts as hidden as could be. That was more than enough time; Lisa had already made a mental list and now all she had to do was make sure she didn’t go over her remaining funds.

She still felt horribly poor when they met back up and found that everyone had a minimum of four bags -- except Lisa, with a stark two.  _ Damn it, _ even when she tried her best...

_ Sigh. _ It would have to do.

The day didn’t end there, though. After the shopping was done and everyone’s individual hauls were separated in the trunk for easy identification they went out to dinner. It was a fairly nice, upscale kind of place -- precisely where Lisa felt the least comfortable, to be honest. Looking around, seeing nicely made-up women in fine dresses and men in spotless suits, made Lisa feel about as out-of-place as a pizza in a Chinese buffet.

Worse, everyone else looked  _ fine _ , even Lexa -- who resembled Lisa in style to a scary degree. They just seemed so relaxed, as if they all belonged in a shiny black-and-gold restaurant where all the men wore 3-piece suits and all the women were absolutely gorgeous.

Head down and internally grumbling, Lisa shuffled behind the sparkling goddesses she called friends, only able to hope that her own dark shadows didn’t dim their luster  _ too _ badly.

And it was there, five women crammed in a booth, that April revealed something she’d been holding back all day: her boyfriend, Casey, had proposed.

Lisa lit up hearing that, excitement hitting her right in the chest. Jo, by turns, absolutely  _ shrieked _ and pounced on April for an aggressive hug, chanting, “I knew it!” and, “Tell us everything!”

April was grinning as she did so, painting the scene in a way only a practiced speaker could do. According to her, she’d expected him to propose for  _ months _ , and after all that time she gave up on waiting and instead focused on just enjoying being with him.

On this night, the date started with a trip to the movies. They watched a movie Lisa didn’t recognize, then went out for a night of mixed food and people-watching. Apparently they both enjoyed this a great deal, since her work as a journalist included reading people and his work (both as a detective and a vigilante) did basically the same thing.

Then they went out to a nearby park for a walk in the chilly air, joking around, got into a snowball fight...and then, after “pretending” to let her win, he pulled out the ring and presented it to her.

April was on Casey before he could even get out the question; ultimately he had to force it out between her aggressive kisses, and she barely waited for him to finish, shouting, “Yes -- you great, big gummy bear, yes!”

The nickname was the only part of the story that gave Lisa pause. She couldn’t help checking, “Uh, gummy bear, April?”

The older woman chuckled. “Long story. Short version, the boys got into some trouble, Casey came to help, he came home with a gummy bear stuck in his hair.”

And Lisa couldn’t help herself. She checked, “Did...did he eat it?” This was a  _ very _ important question. Honest.

Her companions lost it, devolving into hysterical laughter as a whole. April  _ barely _ had more composure than the rest, struggling through her laughter to brokenly reply, “N-no...he di-- he didn’t  _ eat _ it, Lisa!”

Laughing, herself, Lisa let that go, instead just envisioning Casey plucking a gummy bear out of his own hair and deciding, why not? Imagining him shrugging and popping it in his mouth -- while April looked on, horrified -- was about the funniest thing Lisa had ever pondered before in her life.

Dinner continued on in a much more hushed manner -- notably because they were hushed by a pair of servers when their laughter continued to run rampant, and yeah, Lisa felt pride at that. They weren’t  _ quiet _ (to be honest, with Jocelyn around nothing was  _ ever _ quiet) but they did, at least, try to suppress their laughter whenever it kicked up too high.

Mostly Lexa was the talk of the evening, both because she was new to some of them and because they had to be careful when talking about their beaus. And, Lisa learned, Lexa was....displeased with her own beau.

That was disheartening to hear for the brunette. Lexa was always so confident and self-assured, just like Jo, that Lisa had a hard time comprehending either of them having relationship troubles. It also reminded Lisa of what Lexa had said those weeks ago: that Lisa had never been there for her.

_ Well, _ Lisa vowed, _ I am now. _

She had no idea how she -- someone who was in her first relationship -- could possibly be of any help, but she’d damn well do what she could.

Apparently Lexa’s current boyfriend, Vin, had been acting more distant lately. He wasn’t talking to her as much and often left the room when Lexa entered it, always with some sort of excuse. She was getting (understandably) suspicious.

“Here’s what you do,” Jo was saying. “Step one, follow him to a room with a door. Step two, shut it. Don’t let him past you until he confesses.”

Lexa huffed a sigh. “And if it turns out he’s just got a Christmas surprise for me?” she suggested.

Jo shrugged. “Then he should’ve done a better fuckin’ job of hiding it.”

That had Lexa snorting, amused.

“Speaking of Christmas surprises,” Cassie spoke up, side-eying Jo, “now’d be a good time...”

Jo elbowed her. “Yeah, yeah.”

Lisa perked up, swapping from concerned to intrigued. “What’s going on?” she asked, more than a little interested now that she was living with the turtles, too.

After all, that made Jo her roommate.

That...was a bizarre thing to think.

Smiling, Jo informed them, “Raph an’ me are leaving just before Christmas. The 23rd.”

Lisa’s brows lifted. She hadn’t been told this! “To where?” she pressed.

“Hawaii. Gonna see my grandparents again. ‘Sides, one of my cousins is super attached to Raph,” Jo told her. “Lulu. She demanded to see him again. I...kinda promised,” she chuckled.

It was on the tip of Lisa’s tongue to question that -- she barely caught herself before she could blurt out something about turtles and ninjas in front of Lexa, who was still out of the loop on the subject.

“Aww,” Lisa whined, faking a pout. “I’m gonna miss you for Christmas? That’s  _ so _ mean.”

Jo winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of me before then,” she teased.

Lexa turned to Lisa with a drawn-out, “Ooooooooooh, popular with the ladies now, huh shortie?”

And something in Lisa had her responding, “If I was, I’d’ve started with you.”

Jo cackled; Cassie, surprised, chuckled out, “Snap! Gotcha right back, Lexa.”

Lexa pretended to wipe away a tear. “I know,” she choked out, “I’m so proud.”

April watched the interaction with a smile, though she was also side-eying them. As Lisa and Lexa teased one another, Jo tossing in her own flirts every so often with Cassie offering commentary, the eldest woman looked pleased.

Kind of like a big sister.

* * *

 

Following dinner (April paid; “Shut up, it’s my Christmas present to all of you, you get nothing else!”) came the scariest part of the night: Lisa’s tattoo. Nearly the entire second half of dinner had shifted to a discussion about it, coming up with various ideas and possibilities, and Lisa appreciated the varying perspectives. Really, she did.

But it was also kind of overwhelming to have all these different voices suggesting things for  _ her _ personal tattoo. Still, in the end Cassie made a great comment.

“Yeah, I get it, it’s supposed to match him, but does it have to  _ match _ him?”

That was a thought. Lisa took it to mean she could -- and probably should -- put a flair on it. She had the sketch on-hand, after all, she could absolutely do that. So she started adding in some swirls and lines, appealing to her sense of aesthetics, and ultimately gave up.

She was  _ not _ an artist.

Still, she  _ did _ like the new design better, so she decided that maybe she could hand it off to an actual artist and see what they come up with. The next stop was a tattoo joint to get this done, anyway.

They did a lot of googling at the table before they left, each one checking reviews and looking for mentions of custom tattoos that weren’t too expensive. Turns out that bringing in custom designs tended to cost extra; who knew? Well -- probably anyone with a brain, Lisa thought with a grimace.

This being New freaking York, they of course found a good place. Not for the first time, Lisa felt lucky to have been born here; this city literally had everything.

Considering April had everyone’s bags and Cassie didn’t want to go just yet, the two of them came along on the grounds of, “Why not?” Lexa and Jo, on the other hand, stuck around for moral support and to give Lisa a couple hands to hold for what was definitely going to be a massively painful event.

She appreciated that. Like, a lot.

They eventually found a place, handed off the early design, and a tattooist -- a  _ very _ tall goth-type woman, heavy-set with (unsurprisingly) numerous tattoos down both arms and some visible on her neck, wild black hair and  _ almost _ as many piercings as Lisa had -- talked with Lisa while working on the image to get something a bit better made up.

Somewhat ironically, the woman’s name was Mickey.

Lisa began by explaining that this was  _ super _ intimate, that her boyfriend had this adorable heart-shaped birthmark on his stomach and this was meant to echo it.

Mickey  _ loved _ that idea. “Aww, that’s the sweetest thing!” she cooed. “Okay, so, this needs to be  _ really _ on point. Can you tell me how big you want it and where?”

And this is where it got awkward. Thank god she was talking to another woman for this, Lisa thought, fighting a blush. “U-under...um...high on the stomach, like, right here,” she gestured, framing her lower ribs with her fingers.

Mickey sucked in a wincing breath. “And this is your first tattoo?” she checked.

“And only, probably,” Lisa agreed, nodding.

“Mm,” Mickey hummed, thoughtful. “How big, exactly?”

“Well, the heart needs to be about this big to match,” Lisa began, making a heart with her fingers right under her breasts. Her thumbs almost reached her navel, she realized now; this was going to be a lot bigger than she’d thought.

“A-and, uh,” she went on, struggling for focus as a new wave of reluctance hit her, “those...idunno, wings, I don’t want them to go  _ around _ my ribs, and they kinda have to...follow the shape of...” Unable to say it, she just gestured a wobbly line under her breasts.

Mickey was staring, now.

At first Lisa wanted to just turn tail and run -- pattern recognition said that no one who stared like that had good intentions -- right up until she realized that Mickey didn’t even seem to notice Lisa’s size. No, the tattooist was clearly  _ envisioning _ the tattoo, mapping it out in her mind.

Unable to stop herself, Lisa glanced at the other woman’s chest, curious. And, yeah, now that she was looking, she realized that Mickey’s chest was bigger than hers. Of course the other woman wouldn’t be staring at Lisa’s chest -- her own dwarfed everyone else’s.

That...was helpful, in a way. Realizing she  _ wasn’t _ the most endowed female in the room was relaxing for Lisa.

After a few moments of this staring, Mickey began, “Okay, so, I think I’ve got this all mapped out. But I have to warn you, stomach tattoos can be pretty painful, and the rib area is worse. If you really want to do this, it’s no problem for me, but I’d suggest getting this done in two parts.”

“Whoa,” Jo cut in, having only been half-listening. “So we didn’t mention this yet, but the goal is to have this done by Christmas. Like, healed and everything.”

Mickey gave a nod, processing that, and said, “ _ Healed _ is a little out of range. It usually takes two-to-three weeks for the area to get fully healed, and anywhere from four to six months for a complete healing. I take it neither of you knew that?” she checked, looking between them.

Jo looked surprised, Lisa saw. And no wonder; by the time Jo got  _ her _ tattoo, she was already swimming in mutagen. She’d probably gotten a ‘complete’ healing in a week’s time. Lisa wasn’t there yet.

This...was going to be a grind, Lisa realized.

“Okay, so if we do this in two parts,” Lisa ventured, “how would it be done?”

“Well, today I’d do the outlines,” Mickey explained. “Then in two weeks you come back and I’ll fill them in.”

Two weeks?!

“That’s...out of the question,” Lisa heard herself say, halfway stunned. Damn it, why hadn’t she had this idea earlier?!

Mickey, thoughtful, suggested, “Well, the other option is to start with the outline and see how you feel. If you squirm too much I’ll just stop and we’ll have to schedule a second appointment.”

Well, Lisa thought, at least she had a goal. And she’d never been more thankful to have friends at her side than she did right now. All she had to do was sit still and let Mickey do her thing, and with luck Lexa and Jo could keep her freaking held down in the interim.

She could do this -- more so, she  _ would _ do this.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Now let’s finish the design.”

It didn’t take long, as it turned out. Mickey was clearly a professional in her field and easily understood the kind of thing Lisa wanted, putting in these gorgeous waves and lines until the [**whole tattoo**](https://sultrysirens.tumblr.com/post/186230893774/lisas-soon-to-be-tattoo-in-black-and-white-but) looked amazing. And, at the end, Mickey asked about colors.

Lisa hadn’t even thought of that, but there was no way she was getting a solid black outline. It was zero percent her style.

“Well, my favorite color is pink and my boyfriend’s is orange, but they don’t really mesh, do they?” was her hedged answer.

Mickey pondered on that a second, then asked, “How about a black outline, with the inside pink and fading into orange at the wings?” 

That...sounded really good. Intrigued, Lisa checked, “Can you give me examples of the colors?” 

Smiling, Mickey replied, “Follow me.” 

Lisa -- with Jo and Lexa attached to her -- was led further into the parlour, eventually coming to Mickey’s “workshop”, as she called it. She showed Lisa her inks, the varying brands and colors, and Lisa admitted that she was in  _ way _ over her head. She hadn’t even known there were different brands of inks! 

With the four of them working together, they examined the inks, compared them to Lisa’s own skin tone, and very quickly had a selection made. Everyone looked pleased, Lisa thought; she was more than a little nervous. Who knew this much work went into tattoos? 

Sure, it made sense -- this would be permanently altering someone’s body so  _ of course _ it should be meticulous -- but it still surprised her, somehow. 

They fell into talks again then, with Lisa hedging more and more about the fact that this would have a  _ black _ outline. Could it be done without the outline? Cause she’d really rather it didn’t. 

“The lines can be insanely thin,” Mickey soothed her. “But if you really don’t want any black, yeah, we don’t have to do it. But it wouldn’t stand out as much, so be  _ sure _ you don’t want it.” 

After all this, Lisa wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “How about we get a rain check on this?” she asked. 

“Seriously?” Lexa deadpanned. 

Jo nudged her. “It’s a big decision,” she chided. 

“It’s no problem,” Mickey promised. “Tell you what: I’ll work on a few more designs and color combinations and tomorrow you can see what you think.” 

Good? Lisa took a breath, exhaled slow, and nodded. “I’ll come back -- mmm, five-ish. Okay?”

Mickey gave a nod, agreeing. Date and time set, the females exited the building, sharing information. April and Cassie absolutely could not make it tomorrow, but Jo could, and Lisa straight-up begged Lexa to be here, too. 

Literally. She was hanging off Lexa and whining and pulling the full I’m-your-bestie-you-gotta tactics.

“Alright, alright,” Lexa huffed, wiggling her arm to try and get Lisa to let go of it. “I’ll be here. Now quit it, you’re embarrassing me.”

Lisa gave her a playful shove. “You’re the embarrassment,” she threw back.

Lexa smirked. “Only eighty-percent of the time,” she defended.

Lisa snorted.

They split up then, Lexa taking her own car back to her dorm and April taking Cassie back home while Jo and Lisa waited at a cafe with a couple drinks, discussing life, love and turtles.

“What do you think they do all day,” Lisa asked at one point, “while we’re out being productive citizens?”

“ _ Productive _ is a little generous,” Jocelyn chuckled. “And I think they mostly just sleep. Even ninjas gotta get in their fourty winks, y’know,” she hinted.

“Naturally. Guess what I’m really asking,” Lisa said, thoughtful, “is how much do you really think they train?”

“Well, I can’t speak for all of them, but Raph says training is fun, so I imagine that’s what he does most of the time. When they’re not doing that, I know they all love sports, so sometimes they sneak into stadiums to catch games,” Jo told her.

That made sense. “I can see that. Mikey took me to a concert once, we had to sneak in,” Lisa said.

Jo tilted her head. “Just the once?” she checked.

Surprised, Lisa replied, “Uh, yeah? Why?”

Jo shrugged. “Raph’s snuck me into places a ton. He likes to take me on dates to places like that.” Smirking, she added more quietly, “It’s super fun to get frisky in places like that. He has to try extra hard to stay quiet.” The way she bit her lip implied more intimacy than Lisa was prepared for.

“T-M-I,” Lisa chided, uncomfortable. Then, shaking it off, she replied, “A-anyway, yeah. Mikey’s only taken me to a concert the once, but we’ve been on a ton of dates. Just...mostly to isolated places.” They’d been to a bunch of skate parks and even a couple closed-for-repairs theme parks. This was kind of necessary given how loud the both of them could be.

Grinning in memory, Lisa added, “The first time he told me I was a ninja now, too.”

Jo chuckled. “Sweet boy, that Mikey.” Tilting her head, she went on quietly, “Have I ever said how happy I am that you two found each other?”

Gesturing her, Lisa pointed out, “You found us, to be fair.”

Shaking her head, Jo hinted, “Mikey told us he met you before. Halloween,” she clarified.

Oh, right. Giving a wincing shrug, Lisa asked, “Does that really count? Yeah, there was an exchanging of words, but it’s not like we asked for names or whatever.” Then, pointing, she added sharply, “Your costume was really freaking scary, by the way. Zero-percent prepared for the scream.”

Jo cackled, pleased. “That was the point. So, thanks.” Then, perking up, she started sharply, “So! Tomorrow!”

Lisa recoiled a little. “What about tomorrow?”

Winking, Jo hinted, “Maybe it’s time for that makeover?”

It was definitely closing in, Lisa admitted, but...not just yet. “Soon,” she promised. “I have a plan.”

“Well, be quick about it,” Jo pressed. “Remember, I’m leaving on the 23rd.”

Nodding, Lisa digested that. “I wanna wait for the tattoo to be as healed as possible, so how about the 22nd?”

“Deal.” 

April arrived not too long after that talk, and proceeded to drop off Lisa. The guys were gone by then, out on patrol, giving Lisa plenty of time to start wrapping her gifts. Splinter had “orders” (meaning a request) to let Lisa know when the guys were coming back so they could hide her gifts in his room. Other than that, he kept to himself, giving Lisa her space. She set up shop in the “living room”, largely because it was so close to Splinter’s room and in sight of multiple entrances.

Jo went back to April’s with the older woman, apparently stashing her presents there somewhere. Lisa didn’t ask. They undoubtedly had a plan worked out; they always seemed to get along and had some kind of unspoken wavelength. Lisa kind of envied that, to be honest. They were just...always in cahoots. Somehow. Just like with Cassie...and Lisa...and Splinter...

How did Jocelyn just get along with absolutely everyone? It was  _ weird _ .

Lisa got through most of her haul before she heard a sharp whistle, perking up. Splinter was on his way, she saw; that meant the guys were on their way back. She all but jumped up, helping Splinter gather up her dozen little boxes and get them in his room. And, she saw as he disappeared beyond the sliding doors to his private room, it was completely dark in there.

She wasn’t sure how to take that.

Jubilant cheers and shouts heralded the brothers’ approach, and Lisa spun around just in time to catch them each doing a series of flips and twists down from a high pipe, one after the other. She couldn’t help a smile, watching them. Mikey led the charge, unsurprisingly; it was just like him to hog the spotlight.

When he spotted Lisa, he lit up, parkouring his way over to her in what she knew was just him showing off at this point.

He was  _ pumped _ , too, slightly breathless as he kissed her in greeting. “Hey -- baby -- girl,” he got out between insistent pecks.

Laughing, she pushed him back, feeling herself blush. His brothers were  _ right there! _ “H-hey, honeybee,” she returned, intentionally letting the nickname be heard -- just so the guys had a reason to tease Mikey as a form of mini revenge.

He beamed. “Were you waiting up for me?”

“Sorta?” she hedged. “You’re back earlier than usual, y’know.”

“I know -- missed you too much to stay out,” he teased.

“Liar,” she chided.

Leaning in as he passed them by, Leo corrected, “We just finished tonight’s task early.”

“Leeeeeoooooo,” Mikey whined. “Ruining my mojo over here.”

Raph was already in the weights room, but his voice reached them, calling out, “You ain’t got any mojo!”

“More than you!” Mikey yelled back.

Lisa flinched at the volume, then shook her head. “You guys just always gotta fight over something, huh?”

Donnie chimed in with, “Psychologically-speaking, teasing between siblings can be relaxing and can reinforce bonds.”

Leo, confused, checked, “Where’d you hear that?”

“Surmised,” Donnie corrected.

Lisa and Mikey shared a baffled look, neither of them getting it. They snuck off just as Leo and Donnie got into it, debating psychology. Once they were sequestered away in Mikey’s room, Lisa rounded on him with a glower.

He froze, looking like a kid who’d just heard his parent call out his full name.

Pouting, Lisa said, “You decorated without me.” She’d noticed, but she’d had to work on her presents first and foremost so she hadn’t really been able to look much. Now that she had, though...this place was looking gorgeous.

Pouting right back, Mikey offered, “Only a little.” Then, perking up, he pulled her against him, saying, “We actually waited to decorate the tree until you and Jo were here.” He paused, then checked, “Is she here?”

She guessed he’d just listened for Jocelyn. “No -- she went to April’s.”

“Ah. That’s why Raph went to the weights room,” Mikey concluded. “That’s fine thought, I was gonna ask if you wanted to decorate...o-our room,” he finished, tentative and grinning.

Lisa  _ felt _ her own shock, eyes going wide and stilling. Had he...had he seriously just said that?  _ Our _ room?! She choked on a response, only able to get out broken syllables. Her emotions were going haywire, presented with this blatant change.

This was  _ Mikey’s  _ room. That’s how she saw it. Sure, she’d been here for a few weeks, and her heart swelled with affection to hear him claim it as hers, too, but...she didn’t really  _ want _ it to be hers.

To be frank, she was still very unsettled down here. She didn’t want to stay forever; she’d barely been able to acclimate enough to be comfortable with Mikey’s roomless bathroom. Imagining remaining here for the foreseeable future left her...reluctant.

Somewhere outside her inner conflict, she saw Mikey start to deflate. He was picking up on her emotions again, she realized, and a kind of desperation hit her in response. Not wanting him to get depressed, she hurried out an agreement.

“Uh -- y-yeah, actually, it’d be fun to decorate th...the room,” she hedged. A sound somewhere between a chuckle and clearing her throat escaped her. Shaking it off, she gave him a pat on the cheek (he seemed to like it when she did that) and forced out a smile.

“What kinda supplies do we have?” she asked. If she distanced herself from the whole  _ our room _ thing, she could see this being an enjoyable kind of mini-date. Thinking of it like that helped, and soon enough she got into the idea.

Mikey was a little tentative still, starting to outline what they had available, but that was quickly drowned out as they both got truly going. They got working, stringing colored eggshells into long ropes and pointing out areas as they discussed what could go there. He even hefted her up on his shoulder to put up higher objects, though she knew he could’ve done it himself.

She appreciated that, the way he let her take center stage.  _ Sweet boy, that Mikey, _ Jo had said; she had no idea just  _ how _ sweet.

They couldn’t work too long, sadly, as Lisa did have her own schedule to keep, but it was so much fun that by the time they had to stop she was marveling -- again -- at just how much she was in love with her honeybee.

He had training anyway, apparently, so he just helped her get ready for bed. And, after kissing her goodnight, she heard herself comment quietly, “Love you, baby boy.”

He paused, giving her one of his little, heartfelt smiles. Just as quiet, he replied, “Love you more, baby girl.”

She believed it. After all this time she was pretty sure his heart was infinite in size and capacity; she didn’t doubt he could love more deeply and fully than anyone else in existence.

Unable to argue with him, instead she said, “I’ll do my best to earn it.” 


	41. Chapter 41

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

* * *

* * *

* * *

_Ouch._

No, wait. That was too tame.

_AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHD.KSUJEUIRTNMVBKAU;RFS.KDFG_

_That’s better._

Tattoos, Lisa found, were...a bit worse than advertised. Maybe she was just that unused to pain, but sitting still while a needle punctured her flesh several hundred times a minute was excruciating. It was a damn good thing she had the foresight to demand support for this particular endeavor or she never would’ve been able to make it through.

Getting piercings was painful too, but those had been _brief_ pains. This...was very much not. Without Jocelyn on one side and Lexa on the other, Lisa probably would’ve jumped up out of the chair and left by now.

Then Mickey said the most horrible phrase Lisa had ever heard in her life: “Okay, the lines are done. Now for the colors...”

_That was just the lines?!_

She’d already teared up real bad, and at those words she squeaked out, “Can you knock me out first?”

Jo laughed, then clamped her hand over her mouth to stop herself. Lexa waved a hand, shushing the blonde.

Mickey was sympathetic. “Sorry, I know it’s hard. If you want to stop, now’s the time to say so.”

Lisa was tempted. She was in quite the pickle where she was, too, adding to her conflict; in order for Mickey to do her job properly, Lisa had to get her clothes out of the way. She was now leaned back in a chair, hands over her breasts, both keeping them covered and out of the way so Mickey could work, a dark curtain sectioning this area off from the main store. If she were to stop now, that meant she’d have to uncover herself -- then come back another day and do the same thing all over again.

She didn’t really think she _could_ do that. She’d almost booked it out of here the instant Mickey asked her to remove her shirt and bra; only Lexa and Jo holding her back and rationalizing things had kept her from doing it. She _seriously_ doubted she’d be able to come back and do it again, especially if one or both of them couldn’t make it.

And so, taking deep inhales of pure courage, Lisa forced out, “N-no, it’s okay. Let’s get this done.”

She was treated to pleased smirks and smiles from all three females, which only served to make Lisa feel weirded out. “What?” she demanded; all three shrugged it off.

Whatever.

“So,” Mickey began, getting their attention, “any last-second changes? You were cool with the pink and orange fade, right?”

“You can do that, huh?” Jo checked. “I heard fades is really hard.”

“Just takes some know-how,” Mickey returned. “Now, Lisa -- I gave you eight color combinations. Last chance to change your mind.”

Those color combos had been gorgeous, Lisa thought. One had been a rainbow, one featured a golden heart with sunrise colors blending through the wings, a few others had been solid colors in beautiful interchanges -- but she had her (no pun intended) heart set on the pink and orange fade.

Mickey had made it look incredible, and Lisa couldn’t imagine a better showcase of her love for Mikey.

“No, it’s okay, I want the pink and orange,” Lisa assured her.

“Okay,” Mickey nodded, setting things up. “Deep breaths,” she advised, “and focus on your favorite thing.”

That was easy. Lisa could already see Mikey’s jubilant reaction when she showed him the tattoo, how he’d lose his mind with excitement and love. Envisioning it brought a smile to her face -- though that didn’t last long once the coloring began.

Partway through the heart and Lisa was already wishing she hadn’t agreed to this. Evidently her commitment was impressive, though, because Lexa commented, “Girl, you going through all’o this for your man...I better meet him _real_ soon.”

Jo smirked, silent, as Lisa gasped out a reply of, “Y-yeah, I’ll mark it o-on the calendar.”

Then, brightening, Lexa pressed, “Tell me ‘bout him. This Mikey of yours. You didn’t really say much before.”

Maybe it was the mix of pain and Lisa’s own admittedly slow mind, but she didn’t catch on to the clever change of subject. She just clung to the distraction, words flowing out unbidden. Jo had to shush her and interrupt a few times to prevent any secrets from slipping, but otherwise Lisa did a good job of avoiding the bigger no-nos of the turtles (she was pretty sure).

It was close to two hours of pure torture before the coloring was done, with only brief pauses along the way for Mickey to clean up her canvas (there was so much more blood than Lisa had expected). By then she was _positive_ that nothing in the world was more painful than this and it gave her a newfound respect for those people who were absolutely covered in them.

How Jocelyn had suffered through getting her full tattoo done -- a process she’d once explained had taken more than a month to complete -- was utterly baffling.

Once it was all done, Mickey moved aside, crowing, “You survived!”

And Lisa blurted, “Thank Jesus!”

Her companions laughed, Jo all but bruising her ribs with how hard she lost it.

Mickey offered a hand mirror so Lisa could see the finished work, but after a few moments of her failing to angle it right, Lisa’s patience snapped. She’d reached the pain threshold of _who fucking cares_ and took her hands off her breasts to snatch up the mirror.

She missed the way Lexa and Jo glanced at one another, surprised, then snickered at each other.

Arm across her chest to smoosh her flesh out of the way, Lisa angled the mirror and took a look at[ **the results of her pain**](https://66.media.tumblr.com/be986e19342d30ad450442a917994f98/tumblr_pusuj24wPI1wtuqpio1_500.png). And...well, it was gorgeous. She’d honestly been half-expecting for it to turn out like literal crap, but it hadn’t.

Her skin was red and a little puffy all the way around it, but otherwise it looked lovely. She hesitated to touch it for obvious reasons, yet couldn’t help from hovering her fingers near it, tracing the pattern in the mirror’s reflection with what little reach she had in her odd position. She even caught herself arching her back and tilting to see how it moved when she did.

Mickey had been watching with a pleased smile, and now she checked, “Take it you like it?”

Lisa jolted, having become so caught up in the lines she’d forgotten about her audience.

And her undressed state.

Fighting off a yelp of horror, she shoved the mirror back into Mikey’s hands and shooed everyone away so she could get her clothes back on. The girls chuckled as they obeyed, turning their backs. And, Lisa learned immediately, getting dressed was _much_ harder with her skin so sensitive from a fresh tattoo. She knew in a second that she was going to have to be a lot more careful about where her bra-strap sat or there’d be no end to her suffering.

She was also suddenly aware of hard this was going to be to keep hidden. There was just no way Mikey _wouldn’t_ notice her constant painful twitches and cringes -- not to mention the task of working on her mixes when she could barely focus beyond the ache.

What the _hell_ had she gotten herself into?

Jo leaned around Lisa, grinning. “How ya feelin’, champ?”

Looking up at her, Lisa replied, “Huh? Oh -- uh...not sure,” she hedged. “Still kinda numb.”

“We get that a lot,” Mickey commented. “Do you think it looks good?”

“The tattoo? Yeah,” Lisa assured her.

“Anything you’d like to change?”

“No!” was Lisa’s sharp reply, the very idea of spending more time in that chair giving her an almost Pavlovian fear response.

Lexa laughed, then struggled to regain control. “C’mon -- champ, was it?”

Her smirk had Lisa scowling over at Jo. “Now look what you did,” she grumbled.

Jo just shrugged, still grinning.

“Anyway,” Lexa pressed, slinging an arm around Lisa, “what do you say we get outta here and go have dinner?”

It was past eight, Lisa discovered then as she checked her phone. She exhaled slow, thinking that Mikey and his brothers were probably going out soon to patrol. If she didn’t get back soon she wouldn’t see him before he left.

Jocelyn seemed to catch on to Lisa’s internal struggle because she came around, declaring, “I’m for it! Lisa,” she hinted sharply, “doesn’t get enough girl’s nights. Mind a third wheel, Lexa?”

“Nope. Let’s tricycle this,” Lexa agreed, giving Lisa a half-hug squeeze.

“Do I just not get a say in any of this?” the brunette complained.

“Apparently not,” Mickey commented, amused.

Jo pointed. “You heard her, and as the eldest one here, she gets final say.”

“Says who?” Lisa blurted.

“Everyone,” Lexa answered. “You’re outnumbered. To dinner!” she crowed, steering Lisa forward.

 _Christ_ , how had this happened?!

...Well, she might be complaining externally, Lisa realized, but she couldn’t be more pleased. She was coming to recognize Jo as one of her closest (and, technically, only) friends, and with Lexa here too the only way tonight could be better would be if Mikey were able to come.

Then she’d have her three best friends there, in one place, and what could possibly be better than that?

There was just one problem with that plan...and it had her wondering when, if and how she could introduce Lexa to her boyfriend -- and his family. She didn’t like keeping secrets from Lexa, didn’t like keeping secrets in general. She’d had to do that for _years_ with her breasts and it’d always left a foul taste in her mouth.

It just went against the grain to not be honest and genuine all the time.

...And, now that she thought about it, she realized _that_ was going to make keeping her tattoo a secret that much harder, too. Huffing a sigh, Lisa accepted that this whole idea (the surprise tattoo thing) had been a terrible idea. She should’ve just asked Donnie to do it--

Wait. No. She would’ve had to be topless for him, instead, and there was just no way that was happening. _Damn it_.

Fine, she admitted, this was the best of a series of bad ideas and now she couldn’t take it back. Oh well. She was now officially in a committed relationship with a mutant turtle. That was cool. No take-backsies and whatever.

The trio said goodbye to Mickey and went on their way, chattering about where to go until they decided on a location. Jo wanted to walk there (it was only a few blocks) but Lisa was reluctant; the stinging of her stomach warned her that foot travel was probably a bad idea. Luckily Jocelyn saw reason and the trio opted to take Lexa’s car instead.

“How do you still not have a car?” Lexa complained as they drove.

“I mean, I don’t need one?” Lisa returned. 

“You seriously don’t need a car?” Lexa checked, doubtful. When Lisa just shrugged, she blurted, “How d’you get anywhere?” 

“Take the bus, hop on my skates, walk -- sometimes Jo gives me a ride,” Lisa explained, gesturing the blonde. 

Lexa glanced up at the rearview mirror and the goddess in the backseat. “You got a car, Jo?” she asked.

“Motorcycle,” Jocelyn corrected.

Lexa whistled. “Sweet.”

“Yep. It’s my second-favorite toy,” Jo said, grinning.

“What’s your first?” Lisa made the mistake of asking then.

“Raphael,” was Jo’s smirking answer.

Lisa turned her gaze out of the vehicle as Lexa cackled, amused, a weird feeling taking up residence inside. Something about that phrase twisted in her gut, leaving her uncomfortable.

Guys weren’t _toys_ \-- Lisa certainly didn’t see Mikey that way, at least. But Jo was perfectly okay with making teasing comments like that about Raph? It was enough to make Lisa wonder...was _he_ okay with those comments? Everything she’d seen so far suggested he was, but she had a hard time believing it.

After all, if Mikey made a comment like that about Lisa...she didn’t know what she’d do, but it wouldn’t be pretty, that was for sure. And it made her think that maybe she should tell Raph. She’d wanna know if her boyfriend disrespected her like that when they weren’t together, so he should know if his girlfriend disrespected him in a similar manner.

She just...also didn’t want to be the reason the two of them fought. She liked Jo and Raph, liked the way they were together, liked how they were like peanut butter and jelly -- totally different yet they meshed in a perfect way.

Damn it, now she had another conundrum to figure out.

Dinner passed a little better, thankfully; there was talk of boys, of course, but mostly they shared their holiday plans and got to know one another a bit more. Lexa had never known that Jocelyn was a ballerina; Jo had never known that Lisa had grown up in a two-bedroom home with her four family members; Lisa had never known that Lexa’s mother once did time for being abusive of her grandparents.

They learned a lot about each other that night. Then came the hard part: going back to the Lair and figuring out a way to hide her constant pained cringes. Jocelyn drove them via her bike, and _that_ was an experience she’d rather not repeat.

Who knew that just riding on a vibrating vehicle is enough to aggravate a large portion of sensitive skin?

They lingered on the way back on purpose, taking the long way to ensure that the guys would be gone by the time they returned. Then, after making hush faces at one another, the girls parted; Lisa had no idea what Jo got up to, but Lisa opted to get back to wrapping her presents again. As pet their arrangement, Splinter kept an eye out for his sons while she worked.

She didn’t have much left to finish, luckily, so she cut right through that project, then arranged said gifts in the (overflowing) pile under the tree. Job done and feeling satisfied at having finished, she headed back to Mikey’s room. She had a little workstation set up using the dresser as a desk, and with her laptop booted up and a fan on her (it still got _really_ hot in here sometimes), she got to work on her commissions.

She liked using the giant beanbag for this, thanks to its malleable nature; it was so easy to set it up in comfy positions. Unfortunately that was also her downfall. She got a fantastic amount of work done, mostly in the assembling of fitting songs and snippets, and then...she was gone. The comfortable chair seemed to just suck the energy out of her until she faded away from existence.

* * *

 When Mikey got home he was expecting Lisa would be asleep already. And, well, he wasn’t wrong.

He just hadn’t expected her to be passed out on his beanbag with her laptop still on and sitting in her lap. Smiling to himself, he pulled it out of her grasp, checking it over; yep, that was her mixer program. He set it aside, closing the top to put it into sleep mode.

Then he looked down, admiring the picture she made. A mass of short brunette locks, silver rings and studs in her ears and nose, bright green tank top and tiny yellow shorts. He liked that about her style -- she didn’t care if the colors matched, she just wore whatever.

Jocelyn sometimes cringed, looking at Lisa, on days when she didn’t particularly pay attention to what she grabbed while dressing, but Mikey thought it was the cutest thing. When she tried, yeah, Lisa looked pretty damn good. She just rarely really tried. It kind of irritated the fashionista in him, just also managed to be really endearing.

He couldn’t help reaching out, crouching as he went, to trail his fingers along her leg. She looked so comfortable right now, he hesitated to move her. The bed would be better, he was pretty sure, and he’d much rather have her there anyway. But he also didn’t want to wake her up by moving her. What to do...?

She chose then to shift, leg pulling away from his touch. Oops -- he’d roused her. Committing to the act now, he gripped her hip and gave her a little shake, making her wriggle and verbally complain.

 _So_ cute.

“C’mere,” he directed, catching one of her hands as she waved in his vague direction. He pulled a little, guiding her up; she whined. “Alright, alright, cupcake,” he soothed, amused, starting to pull her up.

She blinked bleary eyes at him, clearly struggling to remain conscious. How adorable -- she’d literally worked herself to sleep! Cooing, he helped her to her feet, keeping her steady.

“Time for bed,” he told her, smiling at how his already uber-cute sweetie managed to get even _more_ cute when she was only half-awake. He couldn’t take this much; his heart was swelling and clenching in his chest. Who the hell allowed her to be so... _her?_

Obviously missing his directive, she leaned on him instead, arms hanging off his shoulders. “Who said?” she demanded, more coherent than he’d expected.

“Me,” he answered with a chuckle, “the boogeyman. C’mon,” he prompted, quickly snatching her up in his arms so she couldn’t fight. “I said it’s bedtime.”

She made this adorable little _wah_ when he picked her up, then snickered, hanging onto him. He deposited her in bed before she could argue, then kicked off his shoes so he could join her. The smile she gave him was borderline coy, running a fingernail over her lip, blue eyes bright.

He read an invitation on that face and had to remind himself that, no, he couldn’t do this now -- she needed her rest. So did he, for that matter. But, man, it was _hard_ , not falling into her arms. Her hair was the cutest mess from the heat and the way he’d dropped her in bed, just adding to the picture she made there.

In the end, he couldn’t resist at least giving her a good-night kiss. He just leaned over her, gave her a peck, a hand coming to caress her ribs--

She yelped, jolting, and he immediately jerked back to his feet, hands up. What the hell was _that?!_

“You okay? What happened?” he demanded. _What’d I do?!_ Well, if she wasn’t awake before, she was now, he realized, grim.

She sucked in a breath, clearly fighting off pain, and shook her head. “N-nothing, sorry, I just...” She trailed off, somewhere between catching her breath and organizing her thoughts, from the look of it. Then, refocusing on him, she gave a tentative grin. “Sorry, I should’ve texted you.” Sitting up, holding her middle, she explained, “I tried to pull a stunt today. Just having fun, y’know? Anyway, I slipped up. Took a rail to the ribs.”

Ouch.

He sat back down again, concerned, and reached for her. “Is it okay? Anything cracked, or--” _worse?_

She shook her head. “Just some bad bruising. It’ll be fine. Not the first time I hurt myself,” she hinted.

Yeah, he knew that -- it wasn’t even the first time she’d hurt herself since knowing _him_. Still, it hurt him to know she was hurt at all. He pet her hair, wishing he could just take away the pain, even if it was just from bruising. “How bad is it? Can I see?” he asked.

He’d hate to see it, really, but he wanted to know how bad it was.

“Honestly, Mikey, if you’ve seen bruises before, you know what it looks like,” Lisa replied easily. “I’ll just keep an eye on it till it clears up.”

He glanced down, where he thought he’d touched her, then back up. “Well, where is it? How big?” He needed to know where he couldn’t touch.

Sitting up a little straighter, she gestured under her breasts -- from one side to the other.

His eyes widened. That...that was _huge!_ For a moment he couldn’t form words, he was so shocked. “A-and nothing’s broken? You’re sure?” he pressed, more than a little worried now. How did she manage to bruise that much of herself on a single rail?!

Shaking her head, she assured him, “Nothing’s broken. Promise. I just...need to be nicer to myself for a while.”

That pulled a reluctant chuckle out of him but didn’t really do much for his aching heart. Pouting, he whined, “My poor kitten...”

She smirked. “Yeah, well, you should see the rail.”

He snorted. “’S it in worse shape?”

“Oh, yeah. Really made it pay for being a stationary object,” she joked.

Well, at least her sense of humor remained intact, he thought. “Good. That’ll teach it to be made of metal,” he retorted, amusement trickling in past the concern otherwise clouding his thoughts.

“Maybe it’ll get the hint finally and turn into foam,” she replied, laying back down. She shifted this way and that for a moment, stretching in tiny ways, before settling with a long exhale.

He smiled, but it didn’t last. He felt like he should be kissing it better but knew it wouldn’t do any good; if her reaction earlier was any indication, it was that her bruises were _very_ sensitive. After all, she hadn’t had any problem standing up and even leaning on him. The pain had come when he’d touched the spot.

So, really, all he had to do was not touch her there, he reasoned. And maybe baby-proof the Lair so she didn’t bump into anything.

He thought about that for a moment, just imagining wrapping everything in bubble wrap, as he reached out to run the backs of his fingers down her cheek. It almost made him laugh -- thinking of his brothers’ reactions when they woke up to the sight was kind of hilarious -- and then she caught his hand and turned her face towards it, lining up a series of kisses across his knuckles, and his heart squeezed so tight it brought tears to his eyes.

Maybe he couldn’t magically take away her pain or protect her from getting clumsy bruises, but right then he knew one thing above all others: he’d kill for her.

* * *

Keeping his distance was hard. Mikey didn’t like it, having to watch where his hands were and avoid his girlfriend’s entire middle section cause he didn’t know where the worst spots were.

By a mercy, she had a lot of work to get done on commissions so he didn’t have to worry _too_ much about her bruises. She just spent most of her home time reclined in a chair, on his beanbag, on the floor -- wherever she was comfortable, really. She just set up her laptop, put on her headphones, and spent the next few hours enjoying herself.

It was cute, watching her wriggling and dancing in place to her own mixes -- when she wasn’t staring hard, chewing on her nails, or puzzling something out, anyway. It was about a fifty-fifty split.

To be honest, he was starting to feel...lonely. She loved her work and she had a _ton_ of it now, distracting her and keeping her smiling. He appreciated that, honest. He just...missed having her attention on _him_ . Nowadays the only time they really had together was when he got into bed, she got _out_ of bed, and during meals.

On the bright side, he’d noticed some pretty big additions to the pile of presents and it’d successfully piqued his interest. His excitement had him following his family around -- Raph, Leo, Jo, whoever -- bugging them about what gifts they’d gotten him.

The answers were usually _shut up, Mikey_ and _go away, Mikey_ and _gags, I got you gags_ and the like. It was funny so, of course, he kept it up. After a few days of this he starting noticing how everyone fled whenever they spotted him. It made him laugh.

For a while.

He tried to be good. He really did. When Lisa was working, he gave her distance and silence, letting her do her thing. She had three commissions before the end of the year and there were less than two weeks remaining. But he was missing her so much and everything else was steadily getting... _boring_.

Funny thing, though -- he didn’t realize _how_ bored he was until Donnie caught him just sitting on a rail, eyeballing the curtain to his room. He’d been at it for a while, he just didn’t know _how_ long.

“...Mikey?” Donnie ventured. When Mikey failed to respond, he snapped, “Mikey, yo! Head up!” He snapped his fingers.

Mikey jolted, swinging his gaze around. “What?”

There stood Donnie in full what-the-hell-is-going-on mode, apparently caught mid-work judging by the toolbox in the crook of his arm and the drill in his hand. He gave a what-the-fuck gesture, checking, “What’s up? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Mikey replied, even as he thought, _I miss my girl._

Donnie hesitated a second, debating, before setting his tools aside. Then, to Mikey’s surprise, he hopped up onto the rail, sitting side by side with the younger brother. A little subdued, Donnie asked, “Lisa?”

Huffing a sigh, Mikey reluctantly agreed. “Yeah...she’s busy. Again.”

“Hard worker,” Donnie commented.

“Proud of her,” Mikey told him, though his tone didn’t quite match the positive remark.

“We all are,” Donnie told him. “She’s a good, honest one. Perfect for you,” he added with a nudge.

It pulled a little smile out of Mikey. Then, with a heavy sigh, he admitted, “Proud of her, but...really missing her.”

Gesturing the room, Donnie said, “She’s right there, little brother.”

Nodding, Mikey accepted that. “Can’t talk to her, though. She’s swamped.”

“Then don’t talk,” Donnie suggested.

Mikey gave him a look of disbelief. _Don’t talk?_ That was literally the majority of their relationship! “What else am I supposed to do, shadow puppets?” he demanded.

“Sounds like something you’d do,” Donnie pointed out. Mikey huffed; Donnie chuckled. “No -- I mean don’t talk, but help.”

Arms up, Mikey snapped, “How?!”

“She makes mixes, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Then listen. Just a thumb’s up, thumb’s down system would be enough,” Donnie told him.

Huh. That was an idea. Hopping off the rail, spirits already lifting, he gave Donnie a thumb’s up. “Good idea. Nerd,” he added for good measure.

Donnie snorted. “Whatever. Buttface,” he retorted.

Mikey giggled, waving him off as he strode into his room, a grin already prepared--

He didn’t see Lisa. Her laptop was on the floor beside the beanbag, though, telling him she’d just gotten up. Towards the bathroom -- technically, the bathroom curtain, as it was drawn then -- he called, “Lisa?”

She sounded a little breathless as she replied, “In here.”

As a rule, when he knew she was in the bathroom he did his best not to _sniff_ , but it was rarely helpful. He couldn’t help but notice any and all odors -- and he noticed right away that there was none now. So...what was she doing in there?

Concerned, he came closer, checking, “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” was her easy reply. A second later and he heard a rustle just before the curtain got pulled aside, revealing his girl. She’d wet her hair, he saw, most of it partly wet and slick back.

“Just wondering why you were in the bathroom,” he replied. “I chased a couple cheetahs in there the other day, they’ve been hiding behind the toilet. Didn’t want them spying on you and your sexy bod.”

She chuckled. “Ah, _that’s_ why they were there. Don’t worry, I flushed ‘em. They’re gone.”

“Sweet. Now, seriously, you okay?” he pressed.

She shrugged. “Healing. I was just checking on the bruises again. It’s looking good,” she told him, pleased.

Good. Moving aside for her, he watched her pass him, explaining, “I had the best idea!”

“Yeah? What’s that?” she asked, taking her seat again.

Gesturing wide, he declared, “I’m gonna help you!”

Her brows lifted. “Oh, you are, huh?”

Nodding, he moved to his bed, saying, “Yep. Beta listener,” he hinted. “You play your mix, I give you feedback. Donnie said I could do th--”

“ _Donnie_ said?” she cut in, surprised. “I thought you said it was your idea?”

“Copyright Donnie,” Mikey confirmed. “I said I _had_ the idea, not that I thought of it.”

“Hah.”

“Anyway, he suggested I could do thumb’s up, thumb’s down. Sounds good, right?” he checked, admittedly more desperate for a ‘yes’ than was probably healthy.

Hesitant, she ventured, “Uh, well, I dunno. I’ve never had a beta listener and whatever. And this is kinda boring work. Lots of repetition,” she hinted.

“Don’t care. I wanna hang with you,” he told her with a pout. “I miss you.”

She gave a whine, face softening. “I miss you too, baby boy, I’m just...trying to be an adult.”

“That’s boring.”

She snorted. “Agreed. Still, though. This is, y’know...my life. Tryna live it.”

He paused, thinking, then said, “Not hearing a ‘no’.”

She chuckled. “Alright, I give. Yes, you can help and give feedback -- but the _instant_ you start derailing things,” she warned, cutting off his celebration before it could get started, “I’m kicking you out.”

“I would _never,”_ he told her with an offended air.

“Mikey. You literally told me that derailing things is what you do best,” she reminded him.

“That was, like, a week ago!” he defended.

She laughed, hanging her head. And, god, it felt good, getting her to laugh with him again. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d been missing it until now, when he finally got it back.

Pleased, he clapped his hands together, prompting, “Alright, I’m ready! Amaze me,” he told her.

She gave him a pair of finger guns, smirking. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she added as her attention shifted to her laptop.

Man, he was jealous of that hunk of metal. It got to just sit in her lap, holding all her focus. He would’ve given anything to be in its place -- both cause it meant he’d be the thing she stared at like that, and because it’d put him...y’know...in her lap.

He could do _so many things_ from that position. His mouth watered to contemplate them, suddenly hit with a crippling need to indulge in her perfect body.

 _Holy shit,_ he thought, realizing then that there was no way he was making it through this work without a major hard-on. Oh well; she had to work and he’d agreed to help her just to be _with_ her. He was just going to have to deal with the consequences, like... _ugh_ ...like an _adult_.

The things he sacrificed for that girl... 

Whether she read his mind or not, he wasn’t sure, but she chose then to glance up and give him a smile, and he had no choice but to amend his (fake) complaint. She was here, with him, sharing his home and selflessly giving him love; any sacrifices he made in return were well worth that reward.


End file.
